Into Solstheim
by CrashingPetals
Summary: A vignette series that features the Dragonborn's exploits in Solstheim, and how she happens to find love there. Rated M for later chapters. DB/Captain Veleth
1. Vignette One

**Into Solstheim**

_**By**:CrashingPetals_

_**Summary**: Yvonne finds herself in Solstheim on a hunt to uncover the strange going ons that initially brought her there. She meant her stay as a way of starting anew, without the confines of being the Dragonborn. What she hadn't expected was to find love. Follow my Dragonborn, Yvonne, as she travels across Solstheim and discovers adventure, new Shouts, and the love of Captain Veleth. Story will proceed in Vignettes that are loosely connected._

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, or the DLC Dragonborn. D:_

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**Vignette One**

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The moment she stepped off the ship, Yvonne could tell that Solstheim would be a hard place to get to know. It was apparent from the first conversation she had - with a Dunmer who claimed to be in a high position on the Solstheim 'court' - to the moment she stepped into the Retching Netch later that evening for a room and a drink.

"You're not from Solstheim, are you?" the owner drawled, shooting her a crimson gaze that screamed out with distrust. It wasn't altogether unkind, however, and so Yvonne didn't feel too bad about taking a seat at the bar.

"What gave it away?" she quipped, sending him a dry smile. "Give me the best you've got."

And he raised his eyebrows at this. "The best? You sure you can pay for it? Outlanders usually aren't exactly - "

"I can pay," she interrupted, raising her brows right back and challenging him with her gaze, which was intense and wild and untamed as the Skyrim sky. Which was an analogy that none of these Dunmer really understood, as most of them had never been to Skyrim or even heard of her accomplishments there.

The Dunmer, which she later discovered was named Geldis Sadri, heaved a clay pot of _something_ onto the counter and poured her a glass of it before shoving it toward her. Yvonne stared at it with the sort of distrusting look she'd been receiving all day, and then glanced back up at Geldis. "What is it?" she wondered, because it didn't smell like anything she'd ever had before. It was spicy, musky, and sweet all at the same time. When she took a small sip, she thought it was delicious.

"That's Sujamma. Bought it off of a merchant from Blacklight." The Dunmer started cleaning a couple of glasses with a rag. "Made with spices grown specifically in Morrowind."

Yvonne made a noise and nodded. "It's good." And then she said, "So what's the problem with the island? I heard people are disappearing. Thought I might be able to help out."

Geldis scoffed and leaned forward. His sharp face leered at her, his eyes returning to their former distrust. Yvonne raised an eyebrow at him, but remained silent. "What could an _Outlander_ do to help us? You Nords are always trying to meddle with other people's affairs. Just go back to Skyrim where you belong."

She wasn't really hurt by his words. Yvonne had a tough outer skin. Later, when she was alone, she'd think about the annoyed angle of his face, and the suspicion in his eyes, and she'd wonder why she was being treated with such contempt. But for now she could hold her own. She was strong.

"I'm bored of Skyrim. I've already discovered Skyrim. This place is new, though, and if there's a chance to help you then I will. Not because I feel sorry for you, but because I've got nothing better to do." It was true, even though Geldis obviously didn't appreciate said truth. There really was no other reason for Yvonne to stay here. She just wanted the adventure. She craved it, yearned for it.

Already she could feel it beckoning to her, telling her to go explore the island, see what it had to offer. She never cared for charity work, though she did it often back in Skyrim. What she cared for was the wild, untamed landscape and becoming a part of it. What she cared for was freedom.

She slapped a bursting coin purse onto the counter, a purse that held much more than was needed for a bottle of Sujamma, and said, "Here. Looks like you need it more than I do. This place is a mess, you know."

And before he could give it back, Yvonne was standing, grabbing the half finished Sujamma, and strolling to a back room to collapse in bed. Whatever the people here claimed, they needed her. And she didn't care if they didn't want her help. They were going to get it regardless.

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The next day started bright and early for Yvonne. She was up before the sun rose, was dressed in her form fitting draugr armor and was out the door before most people were awake. It was better this way, she thought, and besides, she'd get an early start while exploring the island.

The day before, she'd purchased a map of Solstheim, and had already begun to decide on a course of action. She wanted to travel along the coast today, and be in Tel Mithryn by the afternoon. She'd heard a few people talking about the strange place and wanted to see it for herself. Her other main destination was the Skaal village.

Her light boots fell softly into the ash covered ground as she made her way through the gates of Raven Rock. The Redoran guard who leaned against the bulwark didn't say anything as she passed. The ugly helmet he was wearing made it impossible to tell if the guard was displeased at the sight of her or simply exhausted. Maybe both.

Yvonne clamored on down the path, staring wistfully in the direction of her homeland as she walked. She wondered what her fellow Companions were up to, if Vilkas and Farkas were causing any trouble, if Lydia was finding something to do with herself in Yvonne's absence. She missed them all, and had been tempted to bring one of them with her on her trip to this strange new world. But she ruled out the desire soon after it had been thought up. She had to do this alone. She wanted a fresh start, and bringing a companion with her wouldn't allow her that wish.

The clang a steel brought her out of her inner thoughts in a rather harsh manner, and Yvonne frowned as she glanced ahead of her. She was so near to Raven Rock that she'd doubted she would encounter any trouble, but sure enough there was a fight going on. And it wasn't in her nature to sit back and watch, so Yvonne unsheathed her Blades sword and charged into the fray to help the Bonemold wearing Dunmer kill the strange creatures.

They were made of ash, it seemed. Every hit they took caused a part of them to collapse on itself. It would have been an easy kill, except the damn things were quite tenacious. It took four or five good swings to bring one down, and there were three of them. So Yvonne settled for a harsh and loud, "YOL!" to come tearing from her throat, alighting the ash beasts on fire and making them shrivel up quite effectively.

"Thank you…stranger…" the Dunmer heaved. He was injured, very obviously. He was clutching his arm as he stood hunched over, leaning heavily on one of the railings of the burnt down farmhouse nearby. "I don't know if I'd been able to take 'em down alone."

Yvonne frowned and leaned in to touch his arm. "Don't worry about it," she muttered softly, and then looked into his eyes. For a moment, the world shut down. It was inexplicable, strange, but Yvonne felt a certain warmth shoot through her. It was probably because he was handsome, for a Dunmer. She'd never been attracted to Dunmer, but he seemed different. Good. "I know Restoration, if you'd let me have a look."

He stared for a moment, and then seemed to shake whatever he was feeling off. He straightened up and said, "I've got some potions with me, but thank you for the offer regardless. You're a fierce warrior, for a Nord." He didn't mention her Voice, though she knew he was thinking about it. Wondering what sort of power could make her breath fire. Had he not heard of the Dragonborn? But surely he must have, if Miraak was on this island.

"I've had a lot of practice," she said, and smiled a little secretively, thinking about just how much practice she'd had. She wasn't always this skilled in battle, but that was before she'd fully taken on her responsibility as Dragonborn.

"So it seems," the Dunmer said, taking note of her smile and finding himself wondering where it came from, and why. This Nord woman confused him.

"Well, did you need further assistance? If not, I'll be on my way. Exploring," she added in a cheeky voice, and smiled that strange smile again. It was a mix of secrecy and intellect; impishness and wit. Odd, for a Nord.

"Well, if you're not terribly busy, maybe you could help me with an issue I've been dealing with lately," he said. She seemed like a fearless woman. That was good. She could help him route out the problem regarding the Ash Spawn, maybe even help save Raven Rock in the process. He'd seen her walking around the day before, and knew the whispers that were being said about her. Captain Veleth didn't much like the busybody quality of Raven Rock. If, perhaps, he could help this woman become more accepted, he'd feel better. He couldn't really say _why_ he'd feel better, but he would.

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? You're the first person I've encountered so far that's wanted an Outsider's help. I'm surprised."

He shrugged and smiled a tiny bit. "Well, I'm sure people 'round Raven Rock will warm up to you in time. I myself happen to be desperate, otherwise I wouldn't have asked in the first place." And they shared a strange sort of smile. Amid the ash spawn remains, amid the burnt farmhouse, with the sound of crashing waves rustling up onto the shore.

It was the beginning of a…different relationship. But different was good. Different was fresh. Just what Yvonne needed.

She held out her hand and said, "I'm Yvonne. I'll help."

The Captain smiled an honest smile.

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_:D Review please? I'm not sure if other people find Captain Veleth to be as utterly smut-tastic as I do, but hopefully people like the new fic anyway lol I'm going to try posting a new chapter once a day, since they're so easy to write up. Let me know what you think!_


	2. Vignette Two

**Into Solstheim**

**_By:_ **_CrashingPetals_

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**Vignette Two**

He was called the 'Captain' around Raven Rock, and he struck an imposing figure. He had much respect among his fellow Dunmer, mostly because he'd been the captain of the Redoran guard for almost ten years. Yvonne wasn't sure what sort of past he'd had before coming to Solstheim, but she could see him as some sort of scruffy nobleman living in an earthy Morrowind house. Perhaps that was just the corruptions of this strange island talking. Perhaps not.

Regardless, Yvonne found herself looking for him. Just in passing, mostly, whenever she was in the streets. She'd helped him get rid of the ash spawn threat and they were on good terms. When he passed her on his rounds, he'd nod and sometimes stop to chat. The fact that she'd gained his good favor also boosted up her fame around town. She was still treated like an Outsider, but it was now uttered with a sort of admiration, a warmth, that hadn't been there in the beginning.

"Outlander." She glanced up and frowned. Mogrul was probably the only one who still loathed her, but it didn't really bother Yvonne. What bothered her was how he treated everyone else, as though all the Dunmer were scum, dirt beneath his feet. "I told you not to get in my way. Now move it."

She hummed and didn't move. There was something so entertaining about Mogrul, something so base and primal and made her want to burst into laughter. Perhaps it was the tough mercenary lap-dog that always followed him around to back up his harsh tongue.

"I said _move it_," he said harshly, snarling at her. His follower put a hand on his sword as though to be threatening.

Yvonne had ignored the Orc during the first few weeks of her stay in Raven Rock. She hadn't been altogether bothered by him, and hadn't minded the silly threats he'd sent her way. But she felt a certain fire clench her heart, and found herself wanting dearly to put him in his place.

Yesterday, he'd made Milore cry. Last week, he frightened Fethis Alor so much he wouldn't come to work for two days.

She knew people were starting to look their way. Mogrul wasn't quiet, he never was. He liked attention, especially if it was a chance to make himself even more fearsome to the citizens of Raven Rock. Yvonne turned to face him, holding up a coin purse.

"How about a bet?" she wondered, her blue eyes steely with determination and the desire to crush him. "A brawl. You and me. Winner gets to keep this lovely stack of coin."

It was a very large stack of coin, at that. Which made Mogrul grunt and say, "I don't want to waste my time with scum like you. Fight my hireling, and you've got yourself a deal."

Yvonne smirked at this, a taunt already forming on her lips, "What's this? Are you too afraid to fight me, Mogrul? Stop acting like a milk-drinker and throw a few punches."

His eyes flashed. She could see him breaking, bending to her will. He wasn't the type you could call a milk-drinker and get away with it unscathed. Yvonne had met many an Orc like him, all talk an nothing to back up his words, and they'd all met the same fate. She wasn't afraid of him.

He growled and spat, "I'm not wearing armor, you are. Put something less protective on and then I'll thoroughly beat you up, you scum."

A laugh broke past Yvonne's lips. She immediately went to work on her armor, letting the steel plates drop to the ground. She was left in normal clothes, a pair of breeches and a ragged shirt. It wasn't the most sparkling of attire, but Yvonne didn't care what she was wearing as long as she could beat the nasty Orc to pieces.

His fist came at her quickly and suddenly, not waiting for her to get her bearings before slamming a punch into the side of her face. She found herself stumbling back a little, and snarled furiously at the cheating move.

"You really are a coward, starting the fight before I was ready," and then she laughed again, because she hadn't felt so energized in weeks. So ready to take someone down, to show them what she was made of. It seemed that all she'd been doing since coming to Solstheim was killing ash spawn. This was so much better. This was real flesh.

Her fists swung quickly toward him, digging into the flesh of his stomach before he could properly block her. She pulled a fast right-hook before he could figure out what was going on, and her fist slammed into the side of his head and threw him to the ground with the outstanding force behind it. Mogrul hit the ground with a loud grunt and a callous order to his mercenary, who quickly unsheathed his blade and stepped toward Yvonne like the dirty lap-dog he was.

He didn't get three steps, though, before he was blasted high into the air by three loud, wild Shouts, "FUS RO DAH!" Yvonne watched with a twisted satisfaction as the sell-sword let out a hard gasp and groaned. And then her moment passed right before her eyes when a hand came down to grab her arm, and she was twisted around to see the Captain staring down at her with stern, almost angry eyes.

Even though the merchants were clapping and laughing at the sight of Mogrul flat on his back. Even though Yvonne had seemingly done a justice to the good people of Raven Rock. The victory didn't feel quite as good when Veleth was angry.

"You're Dragonborn, aren't you?" he wondered, eyes drifting to the purple bruise that was building on her cheek. He idly brushed a calloused finger over it, not knowing the effect his touch had on Yvonne as she repressed a deep shiver. She wasn't sure why he asked her now if she was Dragonborn, after he must have known for weeks, but she answered anyway.

"…Yes," she breathed, staring up at him with wide, wild eyes that made him want to tame her and let her go at the same time. He opted for the latter.

"Come. I'll fix that face up. You'd be surprised at the remedies that we've learnt to make use of here."

And he turned his back on her sharply, walking toward the bulwark with stiff, stern steps and not waiting for her. Yvonne gave a sheepish look at his back and hurried to gather her armor before running after him.

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Captain Veleth, she soon discovered, happened to have a caring side. She knew this before, of course, could see it in the way he patrolled the streets and spoke to the citizens. But it had never been directed her before. It was unsettling, delicious.

"Sit down," he said, gesturing at a lonely chair that stood pressed up against the wall. The insides of the bulwark was close knit and tight, with long, stretching halls that acted as rooms and sparse furniture. Beds were shoved haphazardly against the walls, making it difficult to walk. And too see, as well, as the only central light source was a roaring fire by the door, and a few candles here and there farther in.

Yvonne sat. She tried to ignore the rickety quality of the chair, which was a fairly common structure in Solstheim. Wood bent and bound with tawny rope. She watched the Captain as he stood before the fire, opening a couple of jars and mixing them together. A moment later when it was complete, the resulting mixture was a foul smelling poultice that had Yvonne cringing away.

"Don't worry, it's not poisonous," he chuckled, and dragged another chair in front of hers.

"It's not needed, either," Yvonne tried to reason, "I told you, I know Restoration - "

"Funny thing, that," the Captain interrupted suddenly, and Yvonne stared at him in surprise as he turned a hard gaze to her. "I thought Nords hated magic?"

She paused, forgetting for a moment what she was supposed to say. His eyes were drilling into her like iron spikes, and it was pinning her down in her seat. But it was a good sort of pinning, the kind she never knew she wanted. He cleared his throat and she jumped.

"Oh," came her feeble answer, and as an amused look reared in Captain Veleth's eyes, she stumbled into another response. "Uh, well, the school of Restoration is actually quite appreciated. And…I find that knowing magic can get you out of tight situations." Especially in Skyrim, where magic was generally feared. Bolstering up a fireball could certainly help if surrounded by Nord bandits. And that aside, Yvonne also found that magic came very easily to her. It was probably because of her dragon soul, but Shouting and casting a spell were almost one in the same.

The Captain nodded and looked away, his gaze turning down to his hands and the jar. "I've found the truth in that myself. But in any case, I've already made the salve. Be a shame to waste it, wouldn't it?" he looked back up at her, and when he saw no resistance in her wild eyes, he drew his hand up to touch her cheek.

His calloused fingers made her shiver again. It was the sort of feeling that shook Yvonne to her very core, and yet shocked her at the depth of it. It was only a touch, a gentle, not particularly caring touch. She had to get a hold of herself.

"It was good, what you did to Mogrul," he suddenly said, shooting her a glance before directing his eyes to her cheek. "Though you'd better watch out around him from now on. He's the sort that'll try to take you unawares."

He didn't need to tell Yvonne this. He knew he didn't need to. But he wanted to, wanted to warn her, to show that he cared for her to an extent. He felt that she was under his charge, her being an Outsider and all. She still didn't know how life around here worked, even though she'd been around for almost a month.

Yvonne laughed, a little bitterly. "You were angry at me." She had seen the angry in his eyes, had seen it curl into his steely gaze and knew it was directed at her and her actions. He didn't try to correct her because it was true.

"Yes," he admitted, "still am. You draw too much attention to yourself. There are people on this island that don't like you, and it isn't the sort of cowardly hatred that Mogrul has. I'm worried that one day, you'll find yourself face down in some Reever camp miles away from safety."

She stared at him but he didn't meet her gaze. She wasn't going to admit that his words made her feel something. She wasn't sure what, only knew that it was curling its warmth through her. She shifted and he drew his hand away, slowly, as though he didn't want to stop touching her.

The atmosphere had thickened to a point where it was difficult to breathe. A long, hard moment was spent staring at each other's eyes. Not into them, really, because both of them had constructed walls to keep the other out. But this was enough, being near to him, even if only for a short moment that would soon pass.

She'd never felt such an odd thing, never experienced this sort of warmth. She'd shared a bed with the odd Nord when the loneliness struck, but this was a heat of another kind entirely. Strange, almost claustrophobic. She wanted to run from it and yet throw herself fearlessly into it at the same time.

"I…I should go," she whispered, because it was getting dark out and she couldn't remain here another moment. She had to taste the salty air and feel the wind lifting up her hair and run and fight and live.

The Captain didn't answer. He watched her leave, also wondering at the strange heat that was somehow able to curve through his indestructible armor.

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_:D Vignette three is already written and will be posted tomorrow~ Oh and sorry if the Captain is a little OOC, I feel like I'm not getting him right |D Please let me know if you have any advice?_

_Soren Tamazki: Thank you for reviewing! I didn't think I'd get many reviews so I appreciate it :)_

_Review/PM please~_


	3. Vignette Three

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

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**Vignette Three**

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She was gone for a month after that. She explored the island from top to bottom, helped the Skaal and the Nords at Thirsk Mead Hall. She delved into numerous caverns and bandit camps and cleared them out, simply for the sake of steadying her mind. Last of all, she searched for more Shouts and pursued Miraak. When she dragged herself back to Raven Rock and into the Retching Netch, people seemed shocked to see her.

"You again? Thought you'd died," Geldis laughed, and took out his strongest liquor without her even having to ask for it. "On the house," he said, his eyes a little warmer than she remembered them to be. "But only for tonight, ya hear?"

Yvonne grinned and delved into the clay mug, feeling immediately at ease at the spicy drink smoked into her head and warmed her body. Perfect. It was the perfect ending to an awful day.

"You're back!"

Scratch that, this was the perfect ending. Yvonne turned to face the Captain, taking in his surprise with steady eyes. She raised a brow, "Course I am. The Skaal let me stay with them for a while, but I think I like Raven Rock more." Because of you, her eyes seemed to say, and the Captain had the decency to flush at the way her voice shifted smoothly over him. He cleared his throat and sat down beside her. "Sujamma, if you would, Geldis."

Yvonne took another slow sip of her drink, thoroughly enjoying the taste of it. The Captain glanced at her with curious eyes, "You drink that stuff like a native. I'm impressed."

Yvonne tipped her head back and laughed. "I've had a lot of practice back in Skyrim, where mead is the only thing that keeps you warm." And to forget, as well, to forget about the bitterness she held against those who wished for her help, to forget about the way they almost brushed her off after her defeat of Alduin. But he didn't need to know that. Geldis put the Captain's glass before him and rushed away to tend to his other customers, leaving them alone.

"Skyrim. Hmm…I used to want to go, when I first came to Solstheim. I hated it here," he chuckled at this, and Yvonne's heart warmed considerably as she gazed at him. "But life caught up with me and I realized the people of Raven Rock needed me."

Yvonne nodded. She understood, perhaps more than anyone else could. The world had needed her, too, once upon a time. And after she had accomplished her destiny, they'd needed her for other things. And still other things, as though her own wishes meant little to nothing. As though nobody cared if she wanted to settle down and marry, raise a family and teach her sons to swordfight, cook meals for them and take them for walks on the desolate Skyrim plains. She shook her head, suddenly realizing that the Captain was looking at her, wondering at her silence.

"It's just as well," she laughed, "I couldn't really imagine you in Skyrim. You're too stern, you'd try to pick a fight with every Nord who insulted you." It was a lie, of course it was. She stared down into her drink and tried to tear the image of him, with her, from her mind. She could imagine her Captain in Skyrim. She could see him with her, traveling together. She could see him in one of her homes. Perhaps even in her bed. Her cheeks darkened a little.

"…You'll discover that there's much more to me than sternness," he murmured, and she looked up at him. He looked at her like he knew what she was thinking about, like he enjoyed that she was thinking in such a way. His voice was the cadence of a promise. It made her shiver and feel warm and uplifted and needy all at once.

She cleared her throat and looked away, breaking the mesmerizing spell of his eyes, trying to forget how much she wanted to touch him. To run her fingers over his dark skin and feel his heart and discover what made him tick. She took a drink. "I'll be heading out again in the morning. I've found a new lead on Miraak. I think this time I'll be able to take care of him for good."

The Captain nodded slowly, staring hard at her. He didn't seem to like these plans of hers. He frowned. "In the morning, eh? Are you coming back?"

Will you survive? Will I see you again?

Yvonne looked at him softly, gently. "Perhaps, if Talos allows it."

Could he see the curling desire in her eyes? The insatiable need to be near him tore through her. She wanted to collapse with him in the dark, run her hands over his armor and then his skin, kiss him breathlessly, wantonly, everywhere. And it wasn't only because she might be going to her death. She'd been wanting this since she met her Captain in the wastelands outside Raven Rock. Though at the time, she hadn't known that the fierce emotions within her were quite so strong, or what they even meant at all.

He saw it. In her eyes, in the way her body shifted in her seat. In the stiffness of her shoulders as she took another drink. In the atmosphere between them as it sizzled and sparked and exploded with unspoken desires. And he'd be damned if he didn't do something about, _right now_. But he'd be damned if he did, too, because he didn't know anything about her. Didn't know her past or what initially brought her to Solstheim or the mundane things about her. Like if she had any family, or what she was like when she was in Skyrim, fulfilling her ever-present duty as Dragonborn. He turned away from his own desires and said, "Good luck." Good luck. What a silly thing to say. So weak, so destructive. Yvonne looked over at him.

She smiled softly, "Thank you." Honesty, bright and blue, shone through her eyes. The corner of his mouth twisted up at the sight of her, before he turned away again.

"I'd better go to sleep. I've got a long day ahead of me," Yvonne murmured, and stood. She left him at the counter, staring into his Sujamma and wondering if, perhaps, he'd made a mistake.

It was better this way, but for how long? The Captain watched her leave, brooding, dark.

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_ebonfade: I know, I thought the same thing :D Wish more people would write for him !_

_Katschaba: Gah, thanks! I shall, of course, try to stay truer to his character in up-coming chapters. Appreciate the shout-out!_

_M: He is rather infuriating, isn't he? :3_

_I'll try to get another chapter up by tomorrow!_


	4. Vignette Four

**Into Solstheim**

**_By: _**_CrashingPetals_

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**Vignette Four**

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"I must say, I'm surprised," Councilor Morvayn told her. He was so typically Dumner, everything Yvonne thought should be in a Dark Elf male. Aloof, a little superior, comfortable with being a leader. She nodded her head respectfully at him, listening closely to his peculiar voice. "When you first stepped off that ship as an Outsider, nobody thought much of you. I am pleased to say that this is not the case anymore."

Yvonne glanced up at him, serious but pleased. She'd done as much as she could for Raven Rock in the small amount of time she'd been in Solstheim. It was only fair that her efforts were rewarded, but the reward in question wasn't at all what Yvonne had in mind.

"Simply giving you a coin purse seems an inadequate prize. As Severin Manor is tenantless, I would like to offer it as your home whenever you are in Solstheim. Use it as you will."

Yvonne stared in surprised. Home? Home was something that didn't have walls or beds or shelves or warmth. Home, to her, was the rugged landscape and battle, fierce and cold and nostalgic. She had plenty of houses, places she'd stop and unload the various spoils of war she'd encountered. Maybe she'd even stop for a couple of days and let one of her Housecarls take care of her, cook for her, wait on her. But her home was the wilderness. That was all there was to it.

Still, the appreciative quality of Councilor Morvayn's eyes made her wonder if perhaps Solstheim's ruggedness could also become her home. Could she add Solstheim to her heart, and bolster it up just as much as she had Skyrim? Perhaps not, but there was a chance that Yvonne might extend her stay, especially if she didn't have to keep renting out rooms at the Retching Netch. It was a nice enough place, but Yvonne preferred solitude over noise.

"Thank you," she said. Her voice was still a cloak of surprise. His gift had been the last thing she'd expected, or even had wanted. But now, as she considered it, Yvonne felt herself warming greatly to the idea of having a house here. It would give her a reason to come back. To see her Captain.

Councilor Morvayn nodded. "You've done the citizens, and myself, a great justice since your arrival. The Dumner don't soon forget such courtesy." He watched his words change her. It was almost physical, the difference of her eyes. They brightened, and she smiled, as though she was so, so happy to be accepted. And she was.

"Thank you," she said again, because it was the only thing she could say. She bowed a little, and was shown outside. The crisp air threw her back into her senses. She tilted her head back as though to absorb reality, which was suddenly warm and eager. Then she began to saunter toward the open market, intent on getting a little coin for the various things she'd picked up in recent travels.

"I've got those netch jelly samples for you, Milore."

"Oh, thank you! I hope they didn't give you too much trouble," she took the jars and placed them on the counter, leaning over to inspect them. "You know, you could be a pretty good alchemist if you studied. You took this sample almost flawlessly." She watched Yvonne blush with the compliment.

"Oh, ah, thank you. Never got the hang of alchemy. Too many things to remember," she added, tapping her head. Milore just laughed and shrugged.

"Well, if you ever want to learn more, just ask. Oh, and here. A few septims for your trouble." She pushed a small coin purse into Yvonne's hands, only to have it pushed right back.

"No, keep the money. I don't need it. The Councilor just gave me Severin Manor." She said it without arrogance, without haughtiness. It was uttered with a sort of embarrassment, in fact, as though Yvonne only meant to explain that she didn't need money to pay for her room and board anymore.

"Oh!" Milore gasped, and then smiled easily, "That's wonderful! You'll stay, then, here in Solstheim? I'd love it if you did." Friendship seared warmly in her eyes.

Yvonne smiled, shrugged, and said, "Maybe. Of course, my home is in Skyrim. But I wouldn't mind returning to Solstheim now and then." She looked down, not wanting to see the disappointment in Milore's eyes. It was there, but there was also understanding, acceptance. Milore put a hand on Yvonne's.

"Of course, you have people waiting for you back in Skyrim. A husband, perhaps?" The question made Yvonne laugh.

"No, no. Though Sofie will be waiting for me. My daughter," she added, and Milore looked even more surprised, as though hearing that Yvonne had a daughter completely threw her off.

"You're not married but you have a daughter?" she asked, and then frowned. "So what happened, did some man try to - "

"It's nothing like that," Yvonne said hurriedly, shaking her head. Her cheeks flushed a little, though she should have already been used to this reaction. It was strange in Skyrim, as well, to have a child but not a husband. People talked without even knowing the full story. Which was, of course, that Sofie was adopted.

Yvonne leaned against the stand and shrugged, leaning down to inspect one of Milore's ingredients simply to give her something to do. "I found Sofie in Windhelm selling flowers. Her parents had died and she barely made enough money to scrape by. One night, I found her sleeping on the ground near a well. She was freezing, so I took her to my house. And, well, I ended up letting her stay and filling in as her mother." She shrugged again, and felt a fierce ache to see that little girl again. She'd never known herself to have mother-like tendencies, but the moment she'd seen Sofie her heart had been moved with sadness. She missed her dearly.

Milore was quiet, soaking in Yvonne's words. She hummed and said, "Do you sometimes wonder…if Sofie should have a father?"

Ridiculous. Yvonne jerked her eyes into Milore's, and when Milore saw the indecency in her friend's expression she quickly backtracked.

"I just wonder if you've ever thought of marrying, that's all. I didn't mean to pry," she added, and Yvonne deflated again.

"Oh, that's alright. Lot's of people have asked me that. Lot's of men," she said, a little angrily. "But I've yet to find someone who loves me for who I am, and not as the Dragonborn. Such people are hard to come by in Skyrim." Very hard to come by.

She didn't want to marry someone just because the good people of Skyrim thought she should. And she didn't want to marry someone just because she thought Sofie should have a father figure. _If_ she married, it would be for the right reasons: because she found love, because this person made her feel safe and happy, and because he wanted to be with her just as much as she him. Regardless of if he had to leave Solstheim or if she had to leave Skyrim - she stopped.

She wasn't sure why she thought immediately of Veleth. The Captain was attractive, yes, but she certainly didn't want to marry him. She maybe wanted to _bed_ him, but she didn't love him. She didn't even know him. The very notion was ridiculous, especially when he would never leave Solstheim, not for her or anyone. In the words of Mjoll the Lionness, Solstheim was Captain Veleth's great beast to conquer.

Milore looked at her in concern, and then moved to rifle through one of her chests. "Here, I brewed up a couple of stamina potions. You look like you might need them. I want to give you something for getting that netch jelly, so don't even think about returning them to me." The warning made Yvonne smile. She took the potions with gratitude and then stepped away.

"I'm going to go check out my new house," she told Milore, and then tucked the potions into her knapsack and nodded at her. "See you later at the Retching Netch."

It wasn't until Yvonne had gotten to her new front door that she realized how easily she'd said those words. 'See you later'. And then she realized just how much she'd come to see Milore as a friend. And then she decided that she didn't want to leave this cursed island. She was happy here.

The thought made her sick. How could she be happy on this ash-covered hell, away from Skyrim's rolling plains and beautiful wilderness? Away from the home she'd carved out in Windhelm with Sofie? And the answer came like a whisper of ash, like a snowflake, drifting slowly, gently over her mind as she fell asleep in her new bed.

Her Captain.

It was the only reason she needed.

* * *

_Finished this one early so I thought I'd post it. I might have another later today, we'll see :) Thanks for the reviews!_


	5. Vignette Five

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Five**

::::

"Damnable things." The cuss was muttered lowly, scratchily, and was very much heartfelt. On the entire island of Solstheim, Yvonne didn't think she'd ever come across a foe as annoying as a Riekling. It wasn't that they were hard to kill, it was just that there were always so many of them. And it took some time to develop the right movements in order to fight a group of them unscathed.

Footwork was key, Yvonne had discovered. The blasted things threw spears that hurt like hell if they broke skin. The tips were barbed and poisoned, which she had found out in her very first week. The wounds caused by the stupid things took days to heal, and they didn't heal _properly_ due to the poisons. Annoying.

Yvonne hated poisons. It wasn't her style. She was a true Nord in many ways, a warrior. Sneaking around in the shadows was for cowards and those unskilled enough to fight. She often found herself rushing recklessly into battle with one of her fierce war cries, dodging and diving between steel, throwing the tip of her swords into as much flesh as she was able. If made her feel exhilarated, alive. Like she could rule the very world itself. It was the Dovah within her, perhaps, that felt so exulted in the face of power.

She fought Rieklings in much the same manner that she fought everything else. Only a little differently, because a few things had to be taken into account. The _size_ of the damned things, for one, made the arches of her sword-swings lower, a bit unstable. Also the fact that they had a tendency to burst out of randomly placed barrels. That didn't help, either, especially when Yvonne didn't bother _sneaking_.

"I hate Rieklings," she muttered, resting for a moment by the corpse of a dead one. The ugly little thing was one of the random-barrel-popping ones, and had caught her entirely by surprise as she was passing. It managed to cut her a bit with the tip of his spear before the thing met his untimely death. The wound wasn't deep, but that annoying poison was now lacing through her veins, and though she couldn't feel the effects yet, she knew later it would hurt.

There wasn't a particular reason as to why Yvonne was there. It was just that she hadn't explored this cave yet. She'd already become very intimate with the features of Solstheim, but she hadn't explored the Northern bits yet and she'd wanted to do so. She was also killing time that should have been spent going after Miraak. There was just something in the air that told her she wasn't ready. She needed more Shouts, more dragon souls, more strength before she could face him head-on in his own plane.

That was why she was delving into any and all ruins she could find. She was looking for Word Walls and other useful things that she might use. She knew already that Glacial Cave wouldn't have one of these Walls, but she was also looking for adventure. It gave her that, at least.

Though she was getting a little tired of adventure. It surprised her, this domesticity. It was something she'd never really experienced before. Even as a young woman, she'd been eager to learn the sword and do something with her life. She'd never wanted to sit at home all day and tend to a husband. That life had never been for her. And yet here she was, in the middle of one of her _great_ _adventures_, craving a life that was now forbidden to her.

Strange. That was all there was to it. Strange especially that she was thinking on this right now, in the middle of killing Rieklings. She could have married if she'd really wanted to, but for some reason she'd never been attracted to a Nordic lifestyle. She would have been another typical Nord wife, with a couple of children, her old days as an adventurer long passed. Her sword hung up at the mantle. Even now, she didn't want that. But she did, perhaps, want something…_more_.

She wasn't sure what, exactly. Just more. Something else. Something more fulfilling that being a perpetual spinster.

Yvonne shook her head and laughed. She was so ridiculous. She loved adventure. She loved the hunt. Why on earth would she ever want to give it up? She was the epitome of freedom, of an untethered lifestyle, and she was happy with it.

Yvonne shook her head once more, and trudged forward. Always forward.

::::

She didn't go back to Raven Rock immediately. Yvonne enjoyed being out in the wilds, so she ended up making a slow, steady circle around the shores of the island rather than simply cutting across the land. She found herself at Tel Mithryn just before dark, where she stayed for about an hour talking with Neloth about his Black Book hunt. After a cup of canis root tea - which she had forced herself to drink as it was _absolutely revolting_ - Yvonne continued on her way to Raven Rock.

It took her an hour's walk to arrive. She got there late, at around 10 pm. There was the usual clamor from the Retching Netch as she passed it by, but other than that the streets were void of people, save for the few Redoran guards patrolling.

She didn't stop by to get a drink. She wanted only the comforts of her new house. She wanted a hot bath and a hot meal and then she wanted to _sleep_, sleep like she hadn't slept in days, because of course she hadn't -

"Don't, someone will see," someone hissed suddenly. It took Yvonne a moment to realize that she hadn't been seen by whoever this was and, also, no one was in trouble, per say. Just two people snuggled up together between the houses, that's all, nothing to worry about -

"Don't worry so much, look, no one'll see. Your father's probably asleep already, anyhow."

And her blood ran cold.

Strange, how that voice could make her feel things that Yvonne didn't know she could. Right now, it was making her angry and jealous and yes, maybe betrayed. Maybe hurt. Because all those looks, all those exchanged words, she'd thought they'd all meant something but now, now…now she wasn't so sure.

Her Captain was chuckling and having midnight rendezvous' with Dreyla Alor. It was…it was…well, it was simply infuriating.

Yvonne didn't sneak around things. She didn't like to lower herself like that. But now she remained silent, pressing herself into the shadows as she peered out at the two. The young Dunmer's arms were around his neck. He had his cheek pressed against her hair. They were just standing there, holding each other. No heady kissing was involved. And yet it made Yvonne's blood boil fiercely, wantonly in her veins. She couldn't escape the feeling of recklessness as it spun around her head.

And, what made things worse, was that she had no right to be jealous of them! She'd spoken many times with Dreyla Alor. She _liked_ the girl, had even offered to help pay her way out of Solstheim. The young Dunmer woman had shown Yvonne more kindness in her first week that the other's of Raven Rock had shown in the first month. And yet here she was, wanting nothing more than to toss her away from the Captain in a spiteful, hateful rage.

Stupid. That's what she was. To ever thing that Captain Veleth would be interested in a _Nord_. Nord and Dunmer just didn't mix well. They were too different, had different philosophies, different ways of life, religions, cultures. The social rift between them was too great. It was like an ocean. It was like the ocean between Skyrim and Solstheim: wide, unforgiving, cruel.

Yvonne pushed away from the shadows. They were suffocating her, crawling over her like deceit. She hated hiding. It went against everything she believed to be true strength. So she didn't hide, instead she walked stiffly past the couple as though she hadn't seen them, as though she didn't care if they saw her. They probably didn't anyway.

When Yvonne got to Severin Manor, she didn't take a hot bath or eat a hot meal. Instead, she rifled through her cabinets and pulled out Nord mead. And then she drunk herself into her usual nightmares of Alduin and the War. And as she was falling asleep, she told herself that it didn't matter anyway. She'd only wanted to sleep with him. She hadn't had a man in a long time, that was all, and he was handsome.

But in her heart, she knew it was all a lie.

And that was why her nightmares that night focused less on Alduin and more on two shadowy figures pressed up against each other in an abandoned alleyway.

* * *

_I'm writing these vignettes like a crazy person! :DD Oh, and this one was inspired by timeywimeyspaceywacey's review because for some reason I just didn't know that Veleth and Dreyla were involved with each other! D: I have a tendency to rush through the game I s'pose!_

_Heads up, I want the romance to build slowly, so it might be a while before anything actually happens. Then again, it might not, I get a little impatient as well xD_

_Thank you so much for the amazing reviews! They inspired me to get this chapter out faster than usual :)_


	6. Vignette Six

**Into Solstheim**

**_By:_ **_CrashingPetals_

_**Warnings:** Just a bit of spoilers at the end regarding the final quest and killing Miraak. Iknowyouwerehopingforsomethingsmuttypfftttt :D_

* * *

**Vignette Six**

::::

Captain Veleth was an older man. He'd been around long enough to know how the world worked, and how to get what you needed from it in order to survive. And sometimes, what a person needed was company. His relationship - if he could even call it that - with Dreyla had evolved rather strangely. It had _begun_ with a tumble, had started out as a whisper of passion and ended with an appreciative 'goodbye' and 'perhaps another time'. Veleth was handsome, Dreyla was pretty, and they'd both discovered something in each other that staved away the loneliness of Solstheim.

But there was something that Dreyla couldn't give him. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, only that he saw it in the Outlander, the Nord woman, Yvonne. He saw it in the way she held herself and the way she drank Sujamma and the way she tilted her head back and _laughed_. Laughed like everything was fine, like Miraak wasn't trying to take over the island and like Yvonne wasn't the one who had to take him _down_.

It frightened him. Not only the Miraak business but his own feelings as well. Veleth didn't believe in romance. He'd never been in love before and he left that to the bards and their silly songs. He'd had many a passionate night, especially in his youth, but love? It was a word that was empty to him. And yet…lately, it had somehow reminded him of Yvonne.

He'd seen her, that night, walking past them. It was hard for him _not_ to see her, his eyes always seemed to find her in a crowded place. And it was strange, because after seeing her walk by him, he felt a little slice of betrayal. But it wasn't betrayal, really. More like…he felt angry with himself. For being there with Dreyla, even if their relationship was mainly based on carnal instincts and had, at least for him, had little to do with love.

And yet love should have had nothing to do with Yvonne either. And it didn't, of course it didn't, he'd told himself this so many times. He only wanted to be with her, he was lonely and old and it wasn't often that he found someone else to be intimate with besides Dreyla. He already knew Dreyla, knew what made her tick and what sounds she uttered while in the throes of passion. He didn't know Yvonne, and he'd like to.

His time with Dreyla had ultimately made up his mind. He would explain it to Yvonne, explain his meetings with the younger Dark Elf, tell her that he wanted to change them. Meet her instead. But when he woke up the next morning, bright and early, he discovered that she'd already left Raven Rock. She was going to Miraak.

::::

It was folly but she didn't care. She'd always been dramatic without meaning to be. She knew she had plenty of things to live for, Sofie for one, and so many people back in Skyrim. And yet it made her feel calm in a twisted way, knowing she might very well be going to her death.

She'd put the Captain from her mind as soon as she was able, though he had a tendency to jump into her thoughts more often than not. It was annoying, always thinking about him. It made her unsure.

She stepped into Hermaeous Mora's realm slowly. The pseudo calming sound of rifling pages threatened to put her at ease, but she bristled back to attention, forcing herself to think about those damned Seekers and Gods-forbid Lurkers that patrolled the realm. She had to be careful, had to be ready. She only got one shot at this. She'd be damned if a bastard soul-stealing _dead_ guy put her into her place. No one had yet succeeded to do that and she wasn't interested in having anyone be victorious.

She crept down steep stairs, moving loudly even though she was sneaking. She'd never gotten the hang of moving with the shadows or muffling your armor. But it didn't matter anyway, even if she was seen, because she had enough rage in her to Shout a man to death with one word.

She'd been sad before. Then she'd drunk enough mead to make her angry. Then she'd become so angry that she became exhausted. And when she woke up, her feelings had only solidified during the night and she felt vengeful, like she'd been deceived all these weeks. Like all the flirty gestures exchanged between the Captain and her had been lies.

No, no, this wasn't the time. She shoved him from her mind and focused on the matter at hand. Getting through the first chapter of this insane library.

She hated being here in this realm. As a rule, she didn't commune with Daedra. They were foul and they always asked for too much. Like your soul after death. Yvonne was only too happy to go to Sovngarde, thank you very much. She wasn't interested in being a Daedra's playtoy to toss about as he wished.

And yet she felt like Hermaeous Mora's playtoy right about now. And it made her angry to be played. She didn't like being played with. Her pride wouldn't allow it, wouldn't let anyone take advantage of her and - and damn it, here she was, thinking about him again. She really needed to get a hold of herself.

She got to the final chapter without too much trouble. A little ruffled over from a fight with two Seekers, but it was nothing she couldn't handle. Even when she opened the last chapter and turned around to see a huge dragon circling the skies, she didn't feel afraid. This was too easy.

Miraak was another story entirely. He had a tenacity that most Dragon Priests didn't, and _those _damned things were hard to kill. Every time she nearly killed him, he'd Shout one of the dragons around them to death and devour it's soul, making his own health skyrocket as a result. _It was annoying._

In the end, it wasn't her blade to kill him at all. Which made her _even more_ annoyed. It was Hermaeous Mora, the bastard tentacle thing, who stole her kill and defeated Miraak. For some reason, it made her furious, though she doubted that her fury even had anything to do with the current going ons. It stemmed from everything else. She _did_ have a tendency to let her emotions build up and then release in the most untimely ways.

That was why, when her reckless mission was finally over and she found herself sitting in the wilds of Solstheim with the Black Book in her lap, Yvonne decided that she needed to quench this anger of hers. So she did. By bloodying her blade with as many foes as she could, by running through the wilderness and jumping into the waters that lapped this cursed island's shores, by imagining that she was back home in Skyrim, with that sweet little girl she'd quickly grown to love.

It was really time she went home, she thought. She did, after all, save Solstheim. She came and got what she needed. And now she wanted nothing more than to put the Captain from her mind permanently. He was poisonous to her. He made her want to feel things that were dangerous. She had to leave him behind.

But could she? It was a question that tugged on her mind all through the long trek to Raven Rock.

* * *

_Eh, don't worry, she'll be staying in Solstheim for a while yet. I got a bit ahead of myself there haha I also wouldn't worry about Dreyla and Veleth. I'm setting it up as more of a 'lonely smut relationship' if you haven't noticed yet :D He's free emotionally and quite ready to invest in Yvonne~ Oh, sorry this A/N's a bit long, I wanted to answer reveiws :)_

_Katschaba, I'm glad I'm not the only one who didn't know! After I found out I ended up just hanging out around Raven Rock trying to pick up on the conversations haha_

_Rose From the Ashes: Thank you! So glad you like the story. I really didn't think so many people would read it when I first uploaded it :D_

_Moonflower04: Gah, sorry, it's gonna be a while before I let them admit to their own feelings D: They're both too stubborn!_

_M: I heard that one while I was on my mission to listen to all the random conversations around Raven Rock :3 Sounds like something my dad would've done haha_


	7. Vignette Seven

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Seven**

::::

She ended up staying in Raven Rock. Her iron will wasn't so permanent in the face of _him_. Especially when he approached her that night in the Retching Netch to 'explain'.

"You know about Dreyla and me," was the first thing he said. It was a brash couple of words, words that made him almost cringe at the half thought out beginning. He hurried to finish, "I'm…sorry I didn't tell you about us before."

Yvonne was uncomfortable. She wished she hadn't just chosen a seat closer to the center of the room. She'd sat in the back, on one of the benches because she'd wanted to go unnoticed. But that was silly, because Yvonne was rarely unnoticed. Everything she did, her boldness, her crassness, it made her stand out.

She took a long drink of Sujamma so that she wouldn't have to answer immediately. When she was done, she sighed and leaned back. "You don't have to explain anything to me. It's none of my business."

She wanted it to be, but Yvonne knew better. She'd seen enough of the world to know it's inner workings. What the Captain did in his spare time had little to do with her.

His eyes flared into coals that glowed and seared with emotion. When she went to take another drink, the Captain reached forward and pressed his hands against hers, holding them tightly against the clay and refusing to let her lift the pot to her mouth. She turned to him, trying to maintain a calm exposure. It was hard when he was leaning into her, when his hands were so warm and calloused and when she found herself wanting them to be in _other_ places, too - and it also didn't help that she'd already been drinking for an hour or so.

"It is your business," he said sternly. Like he was trying to make her see something that she just…couldn't. "Dreyla and I…well, it gets lonely here in Raven Rock. We've developed something of a cure for that."

Something of a cure. Yvonne wanted to laugh at it. She wanted to tell him just what she thought of this 'cure' of his, and why he hadn't already turned to her for a _better_ cure. She wasn't inexperienced in Dibella's art. She'd show him a thing of two that'd make him _forget his own name._ But then, that might have been the Sujamma talking. The damn thing did strange things to one's head.

She laughed anyway. It was a half-drunken sort of laugh, ripped from her throat almost bitterly, wantonly, like she wasn't sure what to feel but didn't care. And she didn't, not really. His words made her confused so she blocked them out and focused on what she _saw_ instead. Dizzying orange lights, spinning round and round the room. Ashy floors, empty bottles, ash yams, Dreyla. Sitting in a chair and glancing at Yvonne and Veleth every few seconds, as though jealous, as though curious, as though unsure. Yvonne laughed again.

"You've had enough to drink," her Captain muttered, standing up. He fought her over the nearly finished Sujamma and when he won, put the clay pot on the bench. Then he sighed and slid his hands around her waist, heaving her up. She stumbled forward, face pressed against the white fabric that layered over his bonemold. She didn't see Dreyla anymore, or floating lanterns or empty bottles. A moment later, all she felt was salty air and hard armor and sleep and Veleth. Her Veleth, her Captain, her Dunmer.

She sighed and snuggled into the hardened warmth that was his bonemold. For a moment, she considered what he might do if she were to try to take that damn armor off. But for Yvonne, drinking did strange things to her. She became reckless when she was sober, when she was faced with some tricky situation that demanded a heroic action or some such things. Drinking made her softer, as though she had shed some sort of shell, as though she had reverted back to being a young Nord maiden growing up in her father's house and dreaming of what her life would be like.

Drink also made her remember. Alduin, mainly, but other things as well. Her first step into Whiterun, the moment she first entered Jorrvaskr, the first time she saw Markarth and watched in awe as the stonework dropped and shifted into buildings and bridges and life. Her first battle in Skyrim, her last battle in Skyrim, the songs they sang about her, they way everyone knew of her and yet no one knew _about_ her. Sofie.

That was why, as the Captain walked her to Severin Manor, she wasn't a rambunctious drunk. She was just wrapped up in his arms, somber, tired, wishing that the short walk home was much longer.

"Will you be alright from here?" the Captain asked, watching as she slid from his arms and then sagged against him. For a moment, he held her tightly, his fingers squeezing her hips. She was wearing that blasted Draugr armor and it happened to leave little to the imagination. And Yvonne was beautiful, and the Captain couldn't deny that if she asked him to stay the night, he wouldn't hesitate.

She didn't. But she did lean forward, her face looming close to his, and whisper honestly, "It made me jealous."

It took him a moment to get his thoughts together and figure out what she was talking about. But, of course, what else could she be referring to? He almost smiled, because he just couldn't imagine Yvonne jealous of anything. She had everything, had wealth and adventure and a life. The fact that she'd been jealous of what Dreyla had - Dreyla, who had nothing - well, it made him warm.

"You, jealous?" he asked, and looked down at her. The moonlight exploded over her features. Her blue eyes gleamed bright gray, her hair was strewn with dulled cobalt shadows. Her skin was luminous and her lips…her lips were suddenly arching up to meet his.

Too soon. That was Veleth's first thought. He hadn't properly explained, there were too many unsaid things. His second thought was that kissing Yvonne felt good, delicious, sacred and he never, never wanted to stop. He jerked her to his chest, crushing her against him and moving his mouth over hers wildly, without thought or sense. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He only knew that he wouldn't be happy until he had her beneath him, bare, his.

And yet…she didn't know what she was doing either. She was drunk. He was taking advantage of her. He should leave.

She pulled him back in, arms locked tightly around his neck. Her leg shifted to wrap around his waist and he died, fell forward, shut the door, pressed her against it.

The words 'Should leave, should leave, should leave' spun around in his head but he just couldn't stop. Dreyla had been one thing, soft and supple beneath him and so very inexperienced. But this…Yvonne wasn't soft and she wasn't supple, not in the same way. She fought, she was as untamed in her passion as she was in her sword-play. She was reckless and she kissed him with everything she had and more, much more, until Veleth was left breathless and panting and very much in need of removing his armor.

"Where's the bedroom?" he asked, fingers already beginning to undo buckles. She broke their kiss and looked up at him and he stopped breathing. She had that look in her eyes. The one that screamed out 'I want you'. It made his knees weak. It made him change his mantra from 'Should leave' to 'Stay right here'.

He stumbled forward, eyes transfixed on Yvonne's form as she glided in front of him. And when they reached the bottom of the stairs and she turned back, he knew right then and there that he was a goner, in more ways than one.

* * *

_So...sorry for cutting it off there xD I wanted to get some feedback on this. Do you think this is too soon? I didn't really mean to get to the smut quite yet but this story has been sort of writing itself so I'm not surprised lol Let me know what you think and I'll continue the smut in the next chapter!_

_Timeywimeyspaceywacey: In their conversations, Veleth doesn't sound very committed to me either lol. I can't really see him settling down with a girl anyway, so it works in my favor. (Yvonne, of course, is different~ haha)_

_Moonflower04: I'm glad you like Yvonne! This is the first time I'm playing a hero type, I usually go for a more 'sneak-thief-assassin' image but I'm quite enjoying Yvonne too :D_


	8. Vignette Eight

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

_**Warnings:** Smut! :D_

* * *

**Vignette Eight**

::::

It was true, Yvonne was nothing at all like Dreyla. It struck Veleth how different the experience was overall. He'd never been with a Nord woman before and it was on a whole other level from what he'd expected.

There was something so open about Yvonne. So honest. She was sure of herself in so many ways and it reflected in the bedroom as well. Feisty kisses turned slow, hasty touches morphed to drawn out caresses, and soon Veleth found himself out of his armor and between sheets.

Their mouths shifted over each other cautiously. It was all so strange, finally being intimate. It was something that Veleth had only dreamt about before now. And now it was reality, sweet, delicious, real.

He groaned and pressed his mouth to other parts of her. Down her neck, over her collar bone. Her head tilted back to accommodate him, her fingers flying over the scruffy hair that pattered over his scalp. She watched him tumbled down her body with feline eyes, half lidded. They were the object of passion, and dark promises and lust.

Their armor still provided an annoying wall between them and it had to go. Yvonne ran her fingers over his chest and to the sides of his greaves, fumbling over buckles and leather straps. Her hazy mind knew exactly what she was doing even if the rest of her didn't, and she hurriedly smoothed that bonemold away as quickly as possible. Then, she melted against skin that was dark and luscious and just begging to be touched.

Their mouths met again in a harsh kiss. It wasn't slow anymore, but it wasn't fast either. It was a sort of drowning that existed between planes, cold and hot and visible and invisible. They were flying and yet they were there, grounded, against one another as lovers.

"Veleth…" He shivered and kissed her more soundly. His fingers grappled at her waist, which was still covered. His grasp was so tight that it was probably bruising her, but he didn't care and neither did she. The line between pain and pleasure was blurred and overstepped anyhow.

She whispered his name again and he snapped. He was hard now. He was ready to do anything for her, ready to take her and ready to bring her to her end. His erection was straining against his smallclothes and her thigh and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her.

Yvonne let out an annoyed groan as she struggled with the clasp between her breasts. Her draugr armor was tight and difficult to remove. There were so many clasps in so many places that it infuriated her most days. Tonight it made her cry out with frustration.

Veleth put an end to that. His fingers pulled hers away and, after a moment of struggling, he ended up snapping the clasp in half in his effort to remove her clothes. She cried out again, this time with a sort of twisted amusement, and watched as Veleth's eyes darkened with lust at the sight of her now bare chest.

"You barbarian. Now I'll have to spend money to fix that damn thing," she whispered. His eyes flickered up to hers and for a moment, they both stared at each other. The atmosphere turned serious and deep, somehow sacred. Veleth smirked a little and brought his hands up to touch her.

She made a soft sort of noise that denoted her pleasure. It did feel good. His calloused fingers brushed over her nipples and massaged steady circles around her full breasts. She watched him with growing need as he slowly lowered his head and kissed the tops of each breast.

There was something so special about this. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced. Her other sexual encounters had been hasty and realistic, pushed against a wall or in a tavern bed. It had never been romantic, only passionate with erotic need, the desire to find release. Afterwards, it had been a simple goodbye and the knowledge and even hope that they wouldn't see each other again.

But this was like breathing. Easy. And it was like kindness and romance and swift desire all rolled into one. She liked watching him worship her body. She liked the thought of doing this again.

When his tongue brushed over her hardened peak, she forgot how to breathe. And when his hand delved past the remaining parts of her armor and beneath leather and cloth to feel her, she forgot other things. Like her name, and her titles and everything else.

"Ohh!" she moaned, and arched her back. His fingers were mischievous and delicious. He delved against her core and stroked her nub and kissed her skin and watched her react. And the fact that his eyes were trained so steadfastly on her made everything feel intensified, glorious.

Her fingers scratched down his back, looking for a hold. She couldn't see anything but the dark depths of his eyes as he watched her and it was making her delirious. She wanted more, so much more, and yet she didn't ever want to break the position they already had.

In the end, it was Veleth himself who broke away. He hummed against her skin and then lifted up, dragging his hand away from her core and watching with lustful amusement as she frowned. "I think you're wearing entirely too much," he murmured, and her eyes flashed. It was true, and though he rather liked the disheveled sight she made, with her armor twisted here and there and dragged down her hips, it was getting little old.

He went to work on removing the rest of it. She let him, not bothering to help as she raised her arms above her head and watched. It as endearing in a way, seeing him struggle with the buckles. She laughed a few times as he cursed his way around them. And then, when he'd forcefully jerked the armor down her legs and saw her for what she was, the laughter came to a crashing halt.

This was no time for amusement. This was tension, sure and thick as Veleth studied her naked form. This was building desire and unspoken passions and harsh, brutal, delicious longing.

"You're still wearing that," was all she said, and it came out as a shaky breath that she wasn't sure he'd heard. But he had, because a moment later he was shuffling out of the smallclothes that were still around his hips, and dropping them to the floor.

A moment went by and Yvonne decided she really couldn't take it anymore. It was teasing at it's best, even though it wasn't fully intentional, to have him kneeling before her looking so turned on. She'd had Dunmer before but she couldn't really remember them ever looking quite like _this_. This being big and dark and _ready_. So, so ready.

She shifted, lifting herself on her elbows. She slowly wrapped her legs around him, her eyes staring directly into his as she did. Their bare skin felt heavenly against each other. She whispered a low, "Come here." And watched the words break him, shatter him, bend him to her.

He came willingly and met her in a hard kiss. The strength of his passion was so great that he ended up pushing Yvonne into the pillows. Their lower bodies clashed and they exchanged soft groans at the feeling of being so close. Her arms went around him and she dragged him forward, lips moving with his in a caustic, uninhibited manner.

"I need you now," she told him. It was words bathed in warning, in something of a primal instinct that seemed to almost shape her entire being. He opened his eyes to look at her and saw it in the blue of her gaze, the tension of her body, the way she breathed. He'd wondered what it would be like to take Yvonne to bed before, but he'd never considered what it would be like to take the _Dragonborn_ to bed. The thought crashed against him and he smirked, smirked at the fact that most Nord men probably dreamed of this. And here he was, a Dunmer who'd never even been to Skyrim, pleasuring the Nord hero.

"Lose that smirk," she threatened playfully. She knew what he was thinking. She knew exactly why his lips had taken to that amused smile. He chuckled a little and kissed her, because he couldn't _not_ kiss her. He'd been struggling with this particular desire for weeks now and finally, finally he could do it freely, whenever he wanted.

"Are you sure you're ready for me?" Veleth quipped, and saw the challenge ignite her eyes, make her raise a brow. She sat up, rolling them over so that she sat atop him. She looked like she belonged there, like she was a lioness who ruled over him. And perhaps she did. He stroked her thighs and then moaned out as she grinded her sex against his.

A serious of slow butterfly kisses dipped down his chest. "I think I should be asking you that," she breathed, blinking up at him. She leaned forward and touched his length, lining it up. When she brought herself down upon it, they both scrabbled for each other and then steadfastly lost their grip of reality.

Veleth groaned out and grasped her hips tightly, pushing his length fully into her. "N'wah!" he cursed, because it felt so damn good, so much better than he'd imagined. She was hot and she was his. He kept his eyes trained to her face as she moaned, said his name, and rocked back and forth. She was beautiful, he thought. Her sun-kissed skin shone out in the dim light and her hair was a lovely mess as it hung wildly around her face. Imperfectly flawless.

Their end wasn't long in coming after that. They'd waited so long to be like this with each other that the tension snapped before they even knew what was happening. The only thing that registered in each of their minds was the explosive sight of the other finding release. The tightness, the coil breaking, the bold shouts, and then - "FUS!" yelled out in a desperate sort of way, half moaned-half pleaded as it twisted past Yvonne's lips and flung into Veleth.

The Shout somehow made his end all the stronger. He cried out and quickened his pace, lifting Yvonne's up with the force of his thrusts. He touched her fiercely, cupping one breast and using his other hand to force her hips harshly onto his length. She tightened around him and yelled out his name, feeling a second orgasm tear through her as Veleth spilt himself within her. It was like flying. It was like Shouting. It was like living.

And then it was like falling. She collapsed onto him, exhausted and thoroughly in need of sleep. He dragged himself out of her and then shifted on the bed, accommodating her form as she crawled closer to his. He pulled her into his chest even though they were both sweaty and hot. She kissed his chest, wrapped an arm around his waist, and sighed out in contentment.

"Veleth?" she softly whispered. He hummed out and she continued, "Thank you." For being there, for not pushing her away, for accepting her. Silence. And then the soft squeeze of affection and a gentle kiss brushed against her hair. And then sleep.

* * *

_Hope that didn't scare anyone! :D I got a little carried away. Don't worry, Katschaba, I'll go over the morning bit in the next update. Oh, and I'm not done with Dreyla. There's gonna be some issues in the next few chapters dealing with her. Should be fun!_


	9. Vignette Nine

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Nine**

::::

The first time Yvonne opened her eyes that morning, all she saw were white sheets and a blurry room. That was normal, so she closed her eyes again. And then opened them, because something felt off. Not bad, just different. She felt it in the soreness of her body. She saw it in the tattered Draugr armor on the floor.

Slowly, she sat up. The sheet cascaded down her body as she did, and she heard a soft grunt of appreciation from behind her. A gentle hand with calloused fingers reached out for her. She turned her head.

Captain Veleth was a sight for sore eyes. The sheets were mussed about his form, leaving very little of his nakedness to the imagination. Not that she didn't remember exactly what he looked like anyway. The memories were all suddenly coming back, making her feel warm and strangely happy and yes, a little afraid. She didn't do morning afters. Her previous encounters had been over practically the moment the sex ended. She wasn't really sure how to go about this.

"Uh…good morning," she mumbled, looking away from the amused smile that was forming on his lips. Of course he found her amusing. She was acting like a child! Feeling a sudden determination not to make a fool of herself, Yvonne turned back and said, "So…what are your plans for the day?" That was a normal question to ask after waking up from a night of delicious, hot sex…right?

But he only chuckled. It was so obvious that she didn't know what she was doing. It was endearing, in a way, that she could be so forward during intercourse and yet so awkward after. He stretched lazily and murmured, "Is that your way of making pillow talk? Try harder."

She gaped at him for a moment, and then a slow smile spread across her face. His teasing had at least broken the ice that had built up between them, and Yvonne felt less afraid and more exhilarated. Because last night had been everything she'd hoped for and so much more at the same time. She giggled and, feeling suddenly playful, hovered over him and tried to grab his wrists. He twisted them at the last moment and rolled her over onto her back. A roguish grin later, Veleth was murmuring softly, "You don't want to go there, Nord."

He attempted to kiss her but she pulled back, her eyes twinkling in amusement and mischief. In a deliberate whisper, she told him, "I'm the Dragonborn. I can go wherever I want." And, as though to annunciate her words, she performed a complicated sweep that forced him into his previous position. She smiled down at him with an arrogance that strangely suited her, hands splayed over his darkened skin.

His fingertips shifted up her thighs and he grasped her hips. His eyes, which had just been the epitome of mirth, suddenly shone in a different way, darker, endless. She found herself shivering when he uttered two low, husky words. "So cocky…" And then she found herself being gently rolled back, her head cushioned in pillows, being suddenly surrounded by dark skin and lustful, black eyes.

"I'm not done with you yet," he casually informed her, and yet it was said with such a deliberateness, such intensity, that Yvonne wondered how she was even still breathing. She watched him as his expression turned primal. When he leaned in to kiss her, all coherent thought fled from her mind and she was left feeling like a jumbled, charged mess.

So she did the only thing she could do: she surrendered.

::::

Raven Rock was a small town. Gossip was something that revolved around what the newest thing was with your neighbor, or when the next shipment from Morrowind was due to come in, or if Geldis had any new drink concocted. Or, in this case, the fact that Captain Veleth hadn't been seen all day. And, suspiciously, neither had the Outlander.

The Captain's schedule was always adhered to very strictly, as was his fashion. He woke up early and spent the morning in the Retching Netch, usually speaking with Dreyla, as her father never allowed them near each other in the marketplace. After that, he started his patrols and didn't stop until he was hungry, usually around two in the afternoon. That was when he went to the bulwark and had something to eat and maybe even a nap if he was especially exhausted. After an hour, he'd take up his patrols again until night, where he would retire to the Retching Netch for a much deserved drink.

Today, the Captain hadn't gone to see Dreyla. He hadn't started his patrols. It was already noon and no one had seen hide nor hair of him. Suspicious, especially when no one had seen the Nord either, who was always up early no matter how much she'd had to drink the night before. Very strange, it was, and it caused much speculation to occur in the Retching Netch.

As it happened, Yvonne and Veleth were only beginning their morning. They had retired to the upper level of Severn Manor and Yvonne was leaning over the fire, frowning at the stew that she had haphazardly whipped up. It wasn't typical Nordic stew because the usual ingredients were hard to come by in Raven Rock. Ash yams were the primary fixture, and Yvonne had been lucky enough to find some salted rabbit meat locked away in one of the barrels. There were no carrots or potatoes or cabbage to add to it, but it would do. And Veleth didn't seem to mind.

His arms looped around her waist and his chin came to rest on her shoulder. A soft kiss was administered to her cheek. Yvonne smiled and reached for two bowls. As she filled them with the haphazard meal, she murmured, "People will talk."

It was a casual enough statement, and also true enough. They _would_ talk, they were probably _already_ talking. Yvonne was used to being the object of conversation, but it didn't usually revolve around this sort of thing. Somehow, she felt a little bad about it. A little bad about Dreyla. She went to her new lover and they sat together at a small rounded table. Veleth sighed. "I've done my job here for long enough. I think I deserve a couple days off here and there."

She looked at him but didn't answer. He did, of course, deserve much more than a couple days off. She lifted her spoon to her lips and tasted the stew. It was warm and spicy, but a little empty. She glanced back up at him. What about Dreyla? She wanted to ask him so very badly and yet she didn't want to upset him. It was a delicate subject and Yvonne wasn't known for being anything but brash. She looked back down awkwardly and heard Veleth chuckle.

"Don't worry, Yvonne." Her eyes flicked back up to his at the sound of her name, which came so easily from his lips. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, "I'll deal with Dreyla. That's what you're thinking about, isn't it?"

She wasn't surprised that he could see right through her. Most people could. She wasn't good at hiding her emotions. They often whipped around her without her permission, giving her away before she could rein them in. She smiled at him to show that she appreciated the words, but she also knew that it would be easier said than done. Dreyla was young. He could tell her that he wanted to end their fling, but she wouldn't understand quite as easily as a grown woman might. And if Yvonne was in Dreyla's place, she would probably hate herself with everything she had.

"It's just…I feel like I stole you away from her," Yvonne said quietly, staring into her stew. It made her feel dirty, like a whore, like an Outlander.

It was silent for a long moment and then, "I'm not someone that can be easily taken." Calloused fingers brushed over the back of her hand. She looked up at him, into his warm, dark eyes, and felt all her worries suddenly diminish. "Dreyla should have known what she was getting into with me. I never wanted anything more than a fling with her." His words left her feeling open, half-full, grasping.

"…What am I getting into with you, then?" she wondered. Her tone was almost playful, and yet she was completely serious. What _was_ she getting into? If this was all just another fling then she wasn't sure if she could do it. A part of her wanted freedom, absolutely no ties. A stronger part wanted something more than that.

Silence. He stared at her, thinking. And then he answered a very truthful, "I'm not sure yet." And his indecision somehow made her feel alright. They had time to figure this out and that was more than she could hope for. They shared shaky smiles and allowed the silence to wash over them as they ate.

Later on, when Veleth had finally left Yvonne's house and had finally begun his patrols, the gossip flared up in earnest. Later on, when Yvonne entered the Retching Netch and exchanged something of a heated glance with the Captain, people whispered even more. And Yvonne tried very hard to drink and ignore the angry, heartbroken glare that was pinning her to her seat.

* * *

_Dreyla's gonna be in the next chapter, I think. Hope the morning after scene was good enough! I'm also thinking that Yvonne will be returning to Skyrim soon, so heads up for that :)_


	10. Vignette Ten

**Into Solstheim**

_**By: **CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Ten**

::::

_I told you so._ They were words that Dreyla had been hearing a lot lately. From her father, especially. From her conscience as well. None of the townspeople had been giving her trouble. Even Yvonne had stayed away. What hurt the most was how Veleth had kept his distance, too.

_"I'm ending whatever it was we had, Dreyla,"_ he'd said. She had shivered pleasantly at the sound of her name, but it was a shiver of betrayal. She'd gaped at him in surprise, mainly for his choice of words. 'Whatever it was we had'. She'd thought they had something worthwhile, something beautiful. How could he trample on that and end it so abruptly? And for a Nord.

She'd asked him why, if she'd done anything to chase him off, if her father had said something to him. His only response had been words that sent her into a dizzying array of despair.

_"I think I love her."_

And then he had reluctantly left her, stepping back slowly as though she were an animal. But no, Dreyla wasn't a beast. If anyone, Yvonne was. The Nord who had successfully stolen a Dunmer's heart. Unheard of, too fairy-tale to be real. The very thought made Dreyla sick to her stomach and yet…yet she couldn't truly be angry at Yvonne.

She was furious but there was something holding back that fury. Perhaps it was Yvonne's status as 'Dragonborn', perhaps the deeds she had done for Raven Rock, perhaps the guilt that had been in her eyes of late whenever she looked upon Dreyla. And just maybe, it was the way she seemed to truly _fit_ with the Captain, in a way Dreyla had never been able to achieve.

Dreyla knew when to accept defeat. She just didn't want to.

::::

"I wish you'd stop reading that s'wit," her Captain muttered from the doorway of her bed chambers. It was about 9 o'clock, and Veleth looked exhausted from his nighttime patrols. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes, which contrasted his otherwise smooth, gray skin. He stepped forward, fingers flying over his bonemold clasps and sighing when the heavy parts of his armor fell away.

Yvonne raised an eyebrow at him, turning the page of the folio. She'd found it on one of the shipwreck's just south of Raven Rock a few days ago and had curiously opened it up. The contents had been surprising and a little laughable. Of course she knew of the Lusty Argonian Maid, but this particular book seemed to have more of the story. She'd been reading it for the past few days.

"I'm enjoying it. The innuendos are just hilarious," she said lazily, and settled back into her pillows as her eyes skimmed the page. Veleth only sighed again and began stack his armor on the chest at the foot of her bed. Now wearing only a pair of cloth breaches, he moved to her bed and practically fell onto it. His arms moved around her immediately and she snuggled into his side.

He hummed and read a bit over her shoulder, furrowing his brows as he got farther into the story. After a moment, he chuckled. "I can't believe you're wasting your time reading this, Nord. It's terrible."

Yvonne shot him a look. His words made a sudden thought rotate around her head, and with no small amount of amusement, she wondered, "Don't you like Argonian women?"

He stilled for a moment and then chuckled again, knowing full well what she was up to. "Not really. The scales get in the way." His eyes flickered with clouded mirth that Yvonne was quick to act upon. She shut the book and pushed it onto the bedside table. Then she proceeded to give Veleth her full attention.

"Oh? What race would you prefer to be featured in the book?" Her eyes were a challenge and it made him melt. His hands dragged her closer, throwing her leg around his waist.

"I do enjoy a nice Dunmer girl," he told her, and watched her eyes flash him a warning. He chuckled, drawing his fingers up her spine. She shivered from the delicate touch and pressed her forehead against his, breath intermingling delightfully. He gently surrendered, "Though…lately, I've been craving Nords. Very uncharacteristic."

He watched her smile and his heart gave a little, shuddering with a sort of warmth he hadn't felt since he was just becoming a man. He pulled her body closer and silently reveled in the warmth. Yvonne hummed and kissed the corner of his mouth in an almost teasing manner. She murmured, "I've never liked Nords. Too stocky and brash."

At this, Veleth raised his eyebrow. His fingers slipped beneath the sleeping shift she was wearing to caress her upper thigh. He pressed light kisses over her jaw and down her neck, enjoying the way she shivered into him.

"This particular Nord…is much less stocky than her brethren," he told her casually, as though he was addressing the weather. It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. He smirked and continued, "Though she _is_ very brash. Like an animal."

"An animal?!" she asked, pulling back in mock surprise. She knew very well how she acted and it came as no surprise to hear it from Veleth. She watched him chuckle. "Is that good or bad?" she asked playfully, and his eyes sparked at her through the dim light.

He followed her up into a sitting position and told her in a voice that almost made her dissolve, "Very good…especially in situations like this."

Situations like this. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him, pressing a hard but delicious kiss to his mouth that forced him back down. He groaned and pulled her closer, closer, as though the space between them was something of a curse and had no right to be there. His hands grasped her rear and he pulled her harshly against his core, which was beginning to feel the effects of his desire as it coursed through his veins.

"I'll show you just how much of an animal I am," she whispered to him, and it made him see stars, the universe, his desires compacted into one person. Her.

"Show me," he told her, voice ragged with passion, body yearning for touch. _Show me, show me, show me._

She did. And when everything was said and done and they lay together in a heap of spent limbs and gasping breaths, Veleth decided that he wanted more. More than physical touch. He wanted her in every single way a man could want a woman, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, _completely_.

* * *

_Sorry it took so long to update! I've been pretty busy this past week with finals and I've temporarily put schoolwork ahead of fanfiction. I think that's a valid excuse ^_^_

_Next chapter will be out sometime this weekend!_


	11. Vignette Eleven

**Into Solstheim**

**By: _CrashingPetals_**

* * *

**Vignette Eleven**

**::::**

Raven Rock was somehow changed with the flow of gossip. Yvonne, who had become very respected among the merchants and guards, now received the same untrusting sort of looks she had when she'd first came to Solstheim. Fethis Alor wouldn't even look at her in the eye. And Dreyla…

Veleth had spoken to her but it was obvious that it hadn't done any good. The poor girl looked heartbroken. She kept to her house now, rarely leaving the comfort of her father's presence. When she did go out, it was to the Retching Netch and it was when she was positive both Yvonne and Veleth weren't inside.

Yvonne couldn't curb the guilt that seemed to follow her around. Dreyla made her uncomfortable. Being near the Dunmer made Yvonne feel like dirt. She was too kind-hearted to see Veleth as a conquest or a victory, and too innocent to look at Dreyla with anything less than chagrin.

"How long will you be gone?" her Captain wondered. He was in the middle of his afternoon patrols, and was standing off to the side of the marketplace while he watched Yvonne wait at the armory.

She glanced over at him and shrugged. "A day or two. Frea wanted me to gather a few ingredients for some Shaman ritual and I need to deliver them to her." She watched his expression out of the corner of her eye before directing her gaze back to the smithy.

"Think you could fix this?" she asked Glover, the chest piece of her Draugr armor dangling from her fingers. The buckle was torn and hanging uselessly. She placed it into Glover's outstretched hands and proceeded to shoot Veleth a fiery look that made him _remember_ and _ache_ and _want_ all at once.

Glover raised an eyebrow at the torn leather and glanced up at Yvonne. His eyes jerked over to Veleth's figure and he let out a toothy grin, which Veleth didn't seem to appreciate. Glover chuckled, "Looks like your enemy was trying to rip your armor off. Who were you fighting?" A teasing lilt, another quick, not so subtle glance at Veleth. Yvonne rolled her eyes.

"I'm paying you to fix it, not to ask questions," Yvonne said casually, throwing Glover a semi-stern, semi-amused look that made him smirk. She then reached into her knapsack as though she'd just remembered something, and leaned against the wooden post. "Found these off a couple Reever's a few days ago. Interested?"

Glover dropped the damaged Draugr armor to the floor and leaned forward, eyes glinting over Ebony metal and malachite. He hummed and took one, holding it for a moment in his hand and then scowling. "The balance is off. No use for it. I'll take the Ebony and reshape it but I don't want the other one." He tossed her a bag of coin and she shrugged, pocketing it.

"Fine. Have that done within the next two days, would you? I hate wearing _this_," _This_ being the armor she wore now, which was some sort of mix between leather and steel. It was annoying. She wasn't used to the movement of it. But it did make her look fierce, like a warrior-maiden. Glover hummed and looked over at her, eyes sweeping over her figure appreciatively.

"Y'look alright to me." He grinned another toothy grin that clearly told her she looked more than 'alright' to him, and Veleth stepped forward in an _almost_ possessive manner. Yvonne held back a grin at the obvious nature of her lover's expression. She put a hand on his arm and laughed.

"I need to see Milore before I head out. Meet me near the bulwark?" she breathed, and he nodded. The intensity of their gazes didn't go unnoticed, but Yvonne was an expert at hiding her discomfort that she always seemed to gather from the townspeople. She walked to Milore's stand with her chin up. Milore glanced up and smiled at her approach. "Yvonne. I've been hearing a lot about you as of late."

Yvonne almost flinched. She knew she was the new subject of the gossip, so it shouldn't surprise her. But it still made her upset. She cleared her throat, "Yes…I'm sure you have. Listen Milore you're my only real friend around here." Milore raised her eyebrows, but smiled with a warmth that told Yvonne her friendship was returned. "I just…feel awful about Dreyla. Do you think there's anything I can do to fix what I've done?" She murmured this part, softly, gently, as though she were afraid that the other merchants would hear of her guilt and turn it around on her.

Milore sighed. She was silent for a long moment. "Dreyla is young and pretty. She'll find someone else who truly loves her for all that she is. Don't blame yourself for being happy." The Dunmer glanced around quickly and then murmured, "Besides, only Dreyla and Fethis are truly upset about what's happened, you know. Everyone else understood the relationship between the Captain and her."

Yvonne supposed that the words were meant to put her at ease, but they only further strained the guilt that was infesting her heart. She sent Milore a bitter smile and nodded, reaching into her knapsack and pulling out some gold. "I've run out of healing potions. How may do you have?"

Milore reached down into the chest at her feet. Her voice was muffled as she rummaged around in it, "I've been up to stock of late. I can give you five right now. The others are still brewing." And she snatched the pink bottles from the chest and put them onto the counter.

Yvonne nodded and threw down the coin. She was just beginning to place the newly bought supplies into her knapsack when a bitter voice muttered from her right, "I hope you die out there, Outlander." And Yvonne paused, surprised at the contempt, and turned to face it.

Fethis Alor had never liked her. Ever since she'd spoken bad about the East Empire Company there had been tension between them. And now, the situation with Dreyla wasn't helping Felis' attitude toward her. Not that she blamed him.

Yvonne shifted uncomfortably, closing her knapsack and peering at Fethis with stormy eyes. She wasn't really sure how to feel. She'd felt this prejudice before in the Gray Quarter of Windhelm. She felt the sneers and anger of many who doubted her abilities as Dragonborn simply because she was a woman. But she'd never felt scorn for this sort of thing, and it somehow felt even worse than being laughed at or being underestimated. This sort of scorn implied that her character had no morals. That she was a whore.

Fethis stepped forward and it seemed as though time had stopped. The entire marketplace paused and looked their way. It was drama like they'd never seen before. They'd be talking about this for years.

"Listen up, _Nord_," Fethis growled, and she forced herself not to flinch. The term 'Nord' had been a term of affection before now, whispered playfully at her above bed sheets, kissed into skin, threaded into her hair. Hearing it degraded in such a ferocious way made her want to run. But Fethis was having none of that. He grabbed her wrist and spat, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I knew from the start that you'd cause nothing but trouble here. You're nothing but a heartless, bumbling _oaf_ who wants nothing more than ruin the lives of all you encounter."

It felt like a slap. A cold, bitter slap right across her proud cheek. Yvonne felt his words like knives, digging into fresh wounds and twisting beneath skin. For all her toughness, she'd never had a thick outer skin. She'd never been able to ignore angry words when they were directed at her. They would be on her mind for weeks to come, poisoning her, reminding her. It was Skyrim all over. Skyrim, who had so anxiously awaited her defeat of Alduin, that when it was over they knew not what to do with themselves so they turned on her. Asked her for favors and then whispered about her behind her back.

She couldn't take another Skyrim.

She ripped her wrist back, eyes dark and powerful as she stared at Fethis Alor. He looked a little bit surprised at the raw fury he saw in her eyes, but he didn't back down. It was almost as if he wanted her to strike him, wanted to show everyone just how heartless she was, that she would attack a defenseless man. The townspeople watched, and watched, and watched.

They watched as Yvonne stepped back, glanced at Dreyla with eyes that were almost sad, almost guilty, and yet still fearless. They watched as she grabbed the last potion from Milore and dropped it into her bag. Then they watched Yvonne step around Felis and march right up to Dreyla, and the hushed whispers flared up in earnest.

"I should have said this long ago," Yvonne said, voice strong even though it was on the brink of wavering, breaking. She looked directly into Dreyla's eyes and said, "I'm truly sorry for the pain I've caused you."

The words were so simple, so Nord-like. Another other race would have made them more flowery, would have went on to show that they really were sorry. But for some reason, Dreyla rather thought that Yvonne's words, though unconventional, were better than any sort of intricate verse. It was simple honesty.

Silence. The marketplace hushed and all eyes turned to Dreyla to see her response. For a very long moment, the Dunmer woman stood very still. She, too, was unsure as to how to proceed. And then her hand acted on it's own and she did something that no one had ever done to Yvonne, simply because she had never allowed it. She slapped her.

And this time, the slap and the words that Fethis had spoken sunk rather harshly into her body and began to turn her sorrow to bitterness. But it stopped when Yvonne looked up and saw the look in Dreyla's eyes, which was neither hateful nor blaming as she peered up at Yvonne.

"I accept your apology," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. The crowds roared to life and Fethis growled in contempt, but nothing could change the atmosphere between the two women, which was suddenly much less tense and much more friendly. Yvonne allowed a very slow smile to catch her eye and Dreyla nodded at her as though telling her that everything was alright between them. They were both too stubborn to say it aloud, and both too proud to go about this in an underhanded manner.

"I'll be returning to Skyrim soon," Yvonne told Dreyla, not really knowing why she said it but suddenly feeling a sort of desperation build within her. It was out of the desire to be Dreyla's friend. It was the sort of desperation that Yvonne often felt, for good or for bad, when she dealt with random strangers who needed her help. "Perhaps you would consider accompanying me."

It shocked Dreyla, the offer, and Yvonne wondered if perhaps she'd gone too far too quickly. But then the Dunmer felt herself smiling a very soft smile. "I will think on it." But Yvonne could see that pain was still fresh in Dreyla's eyes, and she knew that if Veleth also returned with her - a thought that had not yet been spoken of between them - Dreyla would certainly turn down the offer.

Yvonne smiled a little shakily at Dreyla, then turned on her heel and marched out of Raven Rock, hand printed cheek and all.

* * *

_Ah...I wasn't planning on this but I think it worked out alright. I like Dreyla too much to make her into some animal. I'm thinking of setting her up with someone like Quintius Navale or something :D_

_Thank you all so much for the reviews and support!_


	12. Vignette Twelve

**Into Solstheim**

**By: **_CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Twelve**

::::

Yvonne knew that sooner or later, she would have to return to Skyrim. It wasn't simply a question of belonging, though her time as an 'Outsider' had been surprisingly refreshing as well as an annoyance. It was also because Skyrim was in her blood. It ran the length of her soul, her heart, her entirety. Skryim was her home and nothing could ever change that, even the Dark Elf she'd rather haphazardly fallen in love with and the home she had unexpectedly received in Raven Rock.

Though she had thoroughly enjoyed her time in Solstheim, and had appreciated everything she'd encountered, Yvonne couldn't shake the homesickness that had begun to thread its way into her life. She missed Skyrim. She missed its rolling hills and its wild terrain and its breathless scenery. She missed things that she hadn't expected to miss, like the bristling cold and the acknowledgement. In Solstheim she was just an Outsider. In Skyrim, she was a hero. Her time away from the endless titles she'd built for herself had given her a humbleness she hadn't had before. And yes, she missed being recognized as someone other than the 'Nord Outlander'. Someone other than 'Veleth's plaything', or whatever nickname the townspeople had given her last.

Even though the homesickness was great, though, Yvonne was unsure as to what to do about it. She yearned for Skyrim but she also yearned for Solstheim and for Veleth. Her heart had splintered in two. She didn't know where to place her allegiance: in the home that had been hers since birth, the place where she had risen to glory and defeated foe after foe…or in the person she had fallen so deeply for, so honestly for, that she could scarcely breath at the thought of her unshakable emotions.

Confusion. It weaved its way through Yvonne as she dipped and threaded along the ashy landscape of Solstheim. She was unsure if she should speak to Veleth about it. She was unsure if she should even return to Skyrim. If she left, would Veleth forget her? She couldn't just ask him to go with her. He'd spent years carving out a life in Raven Rock, rising into the position he was in and earning the respect that accompanied it. It was selfish to ask him to give all that up.

"What will you do now?" Frea had asked her after Yvonne had dropped off the supplies the Skaal had needed. She was perhaps asking how Yvonne would pursue her life now that Miraak had been dealt with. To Yvonne, the question was directed at the rift between herself and the society of Raven Rock, the unquenchable desire to make it smaller, and the equally despairing knowledge that such a thing was impossible.

Yvonne hadn't answered Frea because she hadn't known how to. But her response came later, upon her return to Raven Rock, upon her reunion with Veleth. He saw her enter the small city on one of his patrols. The burning look her sent her made her feel like she was melting from the inside. She could visibly see that he had missed her, and that he was plans for later that he silently divulged to her. But later, after those plans had been worked out and they lay together in a heap of spent and tangled limbs, other things were said.

"What's on your mind?" Veleth murmured, his accented voice thick with satisfaction and sleep. His fingers left warm trails down her bare back, tracing little patterns over her neck, shoulders, spine. She hummed softly into the dark skin of his chest and for a moment, didn't answer.

And then… "Skyrim." It was said with such gentle tones that Veleth was taken aback. Not by her answer, but by the way she responded. Her voice was filled with that yearning, that desire. He paused in his little movements, and then began again.

"You miss it?" he wondered idly, thinking that of course she did. It was foolish for him not to have thought of that before. To him, Yvonne fit so well into Solstheim. She made life here seem so easy, especially his own life. When she hummed again in agreement, he found himself asking what she missed the most, more than anything else in the world.

Her answer, surprisingly, was, "Sofie." He looked down at her, at the way her expression was composed and seemed to be on the brink of sleep. She slowly opened her eyes and he had to hold in his breath at the sight of her bright blue eyes, which bore into his with that honesty, that undiluted essence he loved so much about her.

She snuggled closer to him and he tightened his arms around her, listening with a rapt ear as she described the girl she'd come to love. The way they'd first met in Windhelm, the moments later, when Yvonne had stumbled across her during the nighttime hours and had all but insisted that she come to her house. And then, in the morning, when Yvonne had selflessly asked Sofie if she would allow her to be her adopted mother. The agreement, the love. Veleth could almost taste the yearning that filled Yvonne's voice.

"It's been so long," Yvonne murmured against his skin. Her fingers moved over his chest, lightly stroking his side, tickling over the muscles of his arm. "I miss her so much. I need to return to her soon."

There, she said it. The small hint of her departure. Veleth understood immediately and stiffened just a little. He frowned. He looked down at her, at the sudden seriousness that had taken a hold of her face. And in that moment, he knew he had lost her.

"Veleth," she began, pushing herself up onto her elbows. Her voice was earnest and gentle, "I must return to Skyrim. Sofie needs me and I have duties there that I've neglected for far too long. I know I cannot ask you to come with me, but - "

"Stay," he interrupted, and she stopped talking to stare at him. He hadn't meant for that word to be filled with such strong emotion and it surprised them both. "Stay," he said, softer now. His hands flew to her waist, cupping her sides firmly. He had never begged in all his life, but the way he petitioned to her now rather felt like he was doing just that.

"You make this life more bearable," he admitted. The confession threw her back in surprise, for she'd never heard his voice utter such low, honest words. They seared through her and made her question her decision. Was she really doing the right thing? Could she leave him? She didn't want to. Not at all.

Their eyes burned into coals, into blistering fire that knew no boundaries. It could only be quenched with one thing, and that one thing would be bittersweet. Yvonne closed her eyes but, even with the broken connection, the fire still seared through her unconditionally.

"…Veleth - " He kissed her, lips scorching against hers brashly. He couldn't let her leave, he'd do everything in his power to make her stay. If she left then he'd be stranded, alone, unable to return to his old life now that he had tasted of a life spent with her. He needed her. It was a realization that sent him into a fervent display of affection, of blatant desire. He pushed her down into the mattress, hovering over her as their lips moved with a vengeance.

The passion was so strong that it almost hurt, pressing against skin and stoking emotions and heartbeats. Veleth gasped aloud and pushed his lower body against her, showing her what she was doing to him, what this fire meant. She let loose a small, whimpering noise that only furthered the jaunty desire.

"Yvonne…Yvonne, stay with me," he breathed, and was almost ashamed at the desperate quality of his voice. But it didn't matter, not really. Yvonne wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him again, showing him what she felt, telling him what she had to do. Useless, his words were, and that made the passion turn into slow, burning need. The wanton desire that could only be acted out gently, slowly, softly.

They breathed out each others names and coupled quickly, moving with that honesty that left no gaps between them. This was what it felt like to be one, this truthfulness that seared through veins and muddled thoughts. This was their goodbye.

As the night progressed and turned into morning, Veleth watched her dress, watched her pack, watched her leave. She gave him a kiss like no other, a kiss that told him how much it hurt her, too, to leave him. A kiss that spoke of duty and of need.

"I will come back," she promised him, though she didn't tell him when, couldn't say if their time apart would span for months or for years. And it pained him greatly, but he let her go. They had separate paths to follow, after all. Some things, as they say, are simply not meant to be unified.

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_Sorry for taking so long to update! D: I was struck with a bit of writer's block. On the upside, the story is about to progress much faster now and I know how I'm going to proceed, so chapters should continue at a regular pace. Oh, and fear not, Veleth and Yvonne will be reunited eventually~ She needs to go back to Skyrim for now!_

_I'm also sorry if Veleth character is OOC. I think he is. But I don't think he'd just pick up and leave, he doesn't seem the type to act like a love-sick puppy. Oh, while I'm thinking of it, any ideas with Dreyla? Not sure how to tie up that loose end! Let me know, I'd appreciate the feedback :)_

_Special thanks to Moonflower04, if you hadn't messaged me I wouldn't have felt inspired to update!_


	13. Vignette Thirteen

**Into Solstheim**

**By:** _CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Thirteen**

_::::_

She left for Skyrim the next morning, heart heavy but excited. Her goodbyes had been given to only a few who mattered to her. The Councilor, as was per custom, Milore, and even Dreyla. Once more, Yvonne offered to take her with her to Skyrim, but the offer was declined. Dreyla had claimed that it was too soon, that she wasn't ready to leave Solstheim yet and wasn't ready to go with her, especially. Yvonne understood and was even a little pleased. The thought of bringing Dreyla with her had felt honorable when first uttered, but had quickly soured. Even though she knew that with her gone, Dreyla would probably try to pursue Veleth once more.

The thought pained her but she knew leaving was for the best. She'd never been so homesick in her life. She dreamt of Skyrim when she was both asleep and awake, dreamt of the passion it inspired within her, the respect she had gathered there. And even though she had carved out a snug little home in Raven Rock, Skyrim was her true protector. As she was Skyrim's.

Veleth's goodbye had been the most painful. Very little sleep had been gotten the night before. They had hammered out their feelings atop mussed sheets and in exhausted limbs, solidified their love as much as possible, tried their best to memorize the contours of their bodies and the perfect way they fit together. But it wasn't enough, it would never be. And when Yvonne awoke early that morning, before the sun had colored the sky, she knew that it would be too easy to forget. Too easy to pretend that this entire place never even existed.

She had packed in a hurry, tossed her spare armor into her knapsack along with some of the wealth she'd acquired in Solstheim. The rest she left behind, for the people who needed it more than she. Then she drew back to the bed, eyes skimming over tinged skin that had become something of a familiarity, something of a home to her. Her fingers had touched his cheek, knuckles skimming over his lips. Her mouth brushed over his for a soft, short second and then she pulled away, tore her eyes from his sleeping form and instead to the door. And that was how he woke, alone, cold, bitter, the lingering caresses singing over his body.

It was for the best. For the best. Yvonne had stoutly repeated this phrase on the trip back to Skyrim. Every hurtle of the waves had her repeating her mantra. Until finally, finally, the sight of land came into view. And her heart exploded into warm little shudders that made her think that perhaps it really _was_ for the best.

Skyrim treated her like a long lost daughter. She walked into Windhelm with her chin raised high, receiving incredulous glances from the townsfolk who of course knew who she was. She'd been gone almost half a year, long enough for them to wonder what had happened to her, why she didn't come visit her home, if she was even still alive anymore. And Yvonne took it into stride, as always, greeting those she'd been close to, ducking through the Grey Quarter on her way home _just to see_.

Her eyes had been fairly opened to the lives of the Dark Elves and their struggles, the racism. She herself had felt that prejudice in Raven Rock turned on her, being the only one of pale skin. She walked through the Grey Quarter and felt her heart cry for those who lived there. Then she turned her sights to Hjerm and headed home. To warmth, friendship, and Sophie.

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_Yeah. I'm trying to update but I've run into writer's block with the story. D: Actually, I know exactly where I want it to go, I just can't bring myself to sit down a write it up. My goal is to get it finished by the end of the summer so we'll see how that goes! Please review! :)_


	14. Vignette Fourteen

**Into Solstheim**

**By:** _CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Fourteen**

**::::**

Yvonne slipped inside her towering mansion as silently as possible, and yet it was still not quiet enough to avoid the night terror that was her assigned housecarl. The burly man had surprisingly sharp ears. He was standing up from the hearth and was drawing his sword all within a moment of Yvonne's entrance. He stopped only when he noticed Yvonne's face peering up at him from within her hood, and he nearly dropped his sword in his shock.

"My thane!" he exclaimed, fumbling to put his weapon away. The sight of it made Yvonne chuckle, and two red circles appeared at Caldor's cheeks. The poor man had festered a certain admiration for Yvonne since he was assigned her steward. She was probably being fickle in finding it amusing.

Yvonne cleared her throat and set her heavy bag by the door. It thumped to the ground, the armor within it rattling against each other. Then Yvonne began to tug at the cloak secured at her neck, and soon she was hanging it up and was standing in leathery gear, better for traveling.

Caldor immediately turned to the kitchens, "No one told me you'd be coming, my thane. I'll warm you some stew while you sit down." He disappeared before she could stop him, and Yvonne sighed. She settled herself down by the fire and heaved her boots away, placing them near to the flames so that they could dry.

It felt good to be home, she had to admit. The warm, familiar arch of the house greeted her warmly. Her spare weapons and armor, displayed as they were around the room as trophies of a sort, gave her welcome memories of times gone by. And yet she felt restless, like she was being spread too thin, pulled in all directions at once. Never before had she experienced such a strange feeling. She'd always been so sure of herself, so set in her ways. Love had never factored in before.

Love. Was that what it was? Yvonne didn't know, she had nothing to base it off of, no past experiences quite like this one. She'd bedded plenty of men before but it had never felt like it had with Veleth…he'd made her feel beautiful, not a trophy to be won, the fabled Dragonborn to be had.

"My thane?" Caldor wondered, and Yvonne jumped high into the air. She spun around in her seat to glare at her obstinate housecarl, who was fighting back a smile. In his hands, he held a steaming bowl of stew and a mug of warm ale.

"This is all we have left, m'afraid. If I knew you were coming, I would have gone to the market or out hunting." He handed her the bowl and then the mug, and watched as Yvonne took a heavy drink from it. The warm ale curled around her and made her feel relaxed, very relaxed. It had been too long since she'd had decent ale. The alcohol back in Raven Rock had been dark elf-made, not sweet like Honneybrew or familiar like Nord mead. She savored the taste.

"…No one knew I was coming, actually," she said, glancing at her housecarl. "Though people did whisper and point as I walked through town." It was an amusing, if not irritating thing. She usually hated being recognized, but this time she didn't mind. It had been too long since she'd tasted of her own fame.

Caldor grunted, sitting down in a spare chair. "Well, you've been gone over six months, after all. I reckon they were surprised to see you alive and well."

Yvonne nodded, putting her ale down and picking up her stew instead. It was good, savory, meaty. This, too, was a luxury that she hadn't been allowed back in Solstheim. The simple meal that every home in Skyrim offered, and she found herself craving more of it.

She was about to open her mouth and say more, ask about the news around Skyrim and what had happened in the time she'd been absent, but Yvonne wasn't able to. Or rather, she was distracted by a sudden creak of the floorboards and a lone, sleepy whisper, the pitch of a girl. "Mama…?"

Yvonne's heart leaped in her chest. She twisted around for the second time that night, her bowl almost knocked over in the force of her surprise. Sophie stood halfway down the stairs, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She looked confused, but when she saw Yvonne's open face, Sophie bolted downstairs with surprising excitement. "Mama!" she cried, and hurled herself into Yvonne's arms, which were luckily empty as she'd put the bowl to the side at the last minute.

Caldor watched the reunion with eyes crinkled up in joy. Yvonne dragged Sophie into her lap, close to her heart, and smiled with a happiness that she hadn't felt in months. "Sophie, my _Kendov_, my little warrior." And Sophie snuggled deeply into the warmth of her adopted mother, who had brought her from the depths of hell itself and into the pride of her heart.

"Mama, where were you?" she asked, her childish voice turning into a pout as she looked up into Yvonne's bright blue eyes. And Yvonne sighed, slipped a bit of Sophie's hair behind her ear, "In a place that has ash for dirt, where the dark elves find refuge, across the sea."

Sophie hummed tiredly and Yvonne chuckled, throwing Caldor an amused look. "I think it is time to return to bed, _Kendov," _Yvonne murmured, and Sophie didn't even complain as she rose, holding the young girl in her arms and turning to the stairs. "I think I will retire as well, Caldor. Goodnight." And she didn't even wait to hear him return her words. The adopted mother and daughter disappeared into the darkness, unafraid, and were curled up comfortably on Yvonne's great bed a moment later. The battered winds of Skyrim lulled them into a deep sleep.

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_Two updates in one day! :D Review please!_


	15. Vignette Fifteen

**Into Solstheim**

**By:** _CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Fifteen**

**::::**

"Ma, do we _have_ to leave Windhelm?" Sophie asked wistfully, staring outside as Yvonne stuffed clothes into a leather satchel. It was snowing heavily outside, and the harsh wintry weather was cold and unforgiving. Not ideal for traveling, but there was nothing to be done about it. Yvonne needed to go somewhere else, somewhere warmer and far, far away from Windhelm. There were a number of reasons as to why that was. Mainly, Yvonne didn't want to remember, as much as it pained her to admit it.

"You've never been to Markarth," Yvonne said, picking up the wooden sword she'd carved out herself for Sophie. She tied it to the outside of the bag, knotting it fiercely as she frowned. She figured that, if she was going to run away from her troubles, she might as well do it properly. Markarth was the last outpost before the rugged Jerall Mountains. It was a fitting place to start anew, far away as it was from the other great cities of Skyrim.

Yvonne glanced at Sophie and sighed, pausing in her ministrations. "You'll like it there, I promise. It is a city like no other. The first time I looked upon it, it took my breath away."

Sophie looked up at this, her eyes crinkling in amusement. "Not many things succeed in doing that," she joked, and Yvonne smiled lightly. But her eyes were hard, glistened over just a bit as she remembered gray, dark skin and a low voice whispering into her ear. No, not many things had the potential to take her breath away. And those that did rarely stayed with her for long.

Yvonne turned away. "Go tell Caldor to ready my horse. We leave in an hour's time." Sophie hesitated but then nodded, running from the room to where the housecarl was no doubt waiting downstairs. As soon as she was gone, Yvonne sighed heavily and, when she felt the sting of tears at her eyes, furiously dug the heels of her hands against them. She would not cry over him. She'd never cried over a man before and she wouldn't change that now. But it took her long minutes before she felt controlled enough to accept that.

::::

Hours later, Yvonne and Sophie were on their way to Markarth. It was near to two day's travel. They would stop in Whiterun and spend the night there before continuing onwards and completing the journey. Though Yvonne would rather just continue on and make camp somewhere in the wilderness, she had Sophie to look after now. The young girl sat in front of Yvonne, wrapped up in thick furs to ward off the cold. She gripped the horn of the saddle with tight, untrusting fingers.

"Tell me about Markarth," she begged, tilting her head to look up at Yvonne. The older Nord woman hummed in acknowledgement and said, "It is a city of legend, where heroes live. The city if built upon itself, with great arching staircases that take you high into the air. They say that if you stand on the highest point of Markarth, you can see the heavens themselves."

"And can you?" Sophie immediately asked, riveted. Yvonne glanced down at her in amusement and smiled. She responded, "I saw the hills far out in the Reach. And the dots of the people walking far below me. I saw the great expanse of the sky and dragons flying in the very far distance. So yes, I saw the heavens, because to me that _is_ heaven."

It was silent for a while after that. The great steed in which they rode lumbered slowly on, winding through the cobbled road and the forests and the mountains. And then Sophie murmured, "I have never been outside of Windhelm before." And Yvonne looked down at her with a very serious, very motherly expression.

Silence. And then… "I will take you across Skyrim and show you the country in which you were born. We will go to Solitude, and to the shores of the North Sea, and down to the Rift. And perhaps I'll even bring you to Solstheim, across the sea."

"Where there is ash for dirt?" Sophie wondered.

Yvonne chuckled. "And where dark elves take refuge."

And suddenly a great yearning filled Yvonne, so great that she could scarcely breathe, barely see. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted Veleth. It was a scary, frightful admission that she hadn't quite realized was as deep as it was. She gripped the reigns tightly and blinked back tears, sure that she would never see her Captain again.

But she had no idea that at this very moment, that Captain was crossing the very sea that separated them.

* * *

_Veleth will be back very very soon :) I got bored with Skyrim faster than I thought I would, so I'm gonna bring him back sooner. The end is very near now. I'm anticipating 3-4 more chapters before the epilogue. Tell me what you think of the chapter? :)_


	16. Vignette Sixteen

**Into Solstheim**

**By: **_CrashingPetals_

* * *

**Vignette Sixteen**

Before that moment, Skyrim had been a dream. It had been honeyed hair and bright blue eyes and sun kissed skin. It had been Yvonne. Now it was pine trees and mountains and frigid air and the sea, which lapped and tossed at the shores like a haphazard song. It rather felt like drowning.

Veleth wasn't entirely sure what he had expected. Not another Solstheim, surely. And he wasn't naïve enough to believe that he'd step into Windhelm and would be able to find Yvonne just like that. But he maybe thought that Skyrim would be…smaller.

"What's a _grey-skin_ doing outside the Grey Quarter?" a burly Nord leered, pushing into Veleth's person. He backed away with a frown that would have tamed a Raven Rock citizen in a second. But the Nord only raised an eyebrow and glanced back to exchange jaunty laughs with the two men following him. "What's this? Does this elf have an attitude?"

Veleth didn't know what the Grey Quarter was but he wasn't entirely stupid. He could put two and two together, and he did remember Yvonne speaking a little about Windhelm and its prejudices. The thought made a pang go through him, but it was quickly brushed off because he had more important things to think about. Like not getting into a fight.

Veleth squared his shoulders and tilted his chin up. He was taller than these Nords, thanks to his Elvin heritage. The Nords were stocky and short, built like pack horses, with sprawling muscles and thick calves. He was just starting to see how slender Yvonne really was, compared to her brethren. "I'm looking for Hjerim Hall. Might you direct me to it?" Veleth asked, forcing his words to take on a polite nature. But there was steel behind them, burning like hot embers.

One of the Nords guffawed loudly. Not many people bothered looking over to see what the fuss was about. It struck Veleth as odd, especially considering how there were two guards standing by the Western gate who just watched them. As though they were watching some drunken pub fight.

"Just listen to those manners," the Nord drawled, stepping closer. Veleth ground his teeth together and slid his hand over the hilt of his great sword. The motion made the atmosphere burn. The first Nord, who struck a particularly imposing figure, spat out, "Hjerim Hall is the Dragonborn's residence. What do you want with the Dragonborn?" He cracked his knuckles and, had Veleth been anywhere else, he would have laughed outright at the movement.

Instead, Veleth tightened his grasp around the hilt of his sword and said, "I've business with her. It's urgent." This was added for good measure, though he doubted it would do any good. He was right. Instead of just telling him where Hjerim was, the Nord stepped forward to push Veleth back, glowering at him from beneath two thick eyebrows. "I can't imagine what a grey-skin would have to say to our Dragonborn. Can you?" he asked behind him, and was rewarded with two grunts. He turned back to Veleth and muttered lowly, "Why don't you hurry back to the Grey Quarter and we'll forget this exchange ever took place, hmm? The Dragonborn's got no use for you, Elf. She's a true Nord, through and through."

A true Nord. A true Nord. Words that Veleth found himself repeating all through that cold night, holed up in a rickety tavern that felt like it might blow away with the faintest breath of wind. He had seen what a true Nord was. He had seen it in Yvonne, who was nothing like the men of Windhelm. He had seen it in the kindness of her actions and the way her eyes seemed to never be able to hide her emotions.

The night passed loudly. The wind shredded through his room, which he shared with an old Bosmer who sat shivering in the corner. By the time the morning sun came spilling over the horizon, Captain Veleth was gone. Off to brave the wilderness of a country he did not know, to fight the prejudices of a people he did not understand, and to find the one he did.

* * *

_Hello! First of all…nope. I have no excuse. I've been moping around in boredom for the past month and yet I still didn't update. I'm sorry! Thank you so much for the reviews, though, I love to read them and to know that people are still interested in the story!_

_Katschaba: I…don't really remember my reasoning. I think the reason I wrote that was because Windhelm reminds Yvonne of Veleth since it has the Gray Quarter. I love Markarth so I decided to have Yvonne travel there, because she's the sort of character that is deeply attached to the land and traveling calms her. I just feel like it's something she would do, I don't know! I've probably confused you even more though, so don't mind me!_

_Moonflower04: The end is coming up! I will tell you this though, since it's pretty obvious anyway: they will end up together, and I hate angsty endings so I won't subject you to that. Not sure about marriage though. Yvonne doesn't seem the type that would settle down until she's had her fill of being Dragonborn._

_Timeywimeyspaceywacey: I love you and your beautiful reviews :D I'm glad you hear you like the story so much! Also glad you like that whole Caldor business! I thought it would be cute, haha._

_Alright! Please review if you have the time! I'll try to update within the week. If I don't send me a review and complain because otherwise it might take a month and a half again. Lol._


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